FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.   D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY  HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


Division 


JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

1819-1910 

IN  TWO   VOLUMES 
VOLUME  II 


JULIA  RD  HOWE 


FLOREN< 

With  1 


\xr 


JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

1819-1910 


BY 

LAURA  E.  RICHARDS 
and  MAUD  HOWE  ELLIOTT 

ASSISTED    BY 

FLORENCE  HOWE  HALL 


With  Portraits  and  other 
Illustrations 


VOLUME  II 


BOSTON   AND  NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 

OEtie  ftitoeitfibe  p>rc#s  Cambridge 

1916 


COPYRIGHT,    1915,   BY   LAURA   E.    RICHARDS  AND    MAUD   HOWE   ELLIOTT 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 

Published  March  igit) 


CONTENTS 

I.   EUROPE  REVISITED.   1877  3 

II.   A  ROMAN  WINTER.   1878-1879  28 

III.  NEWPORT.   1879-1882  46 

IV.  241    BEACON    STREET:     THE    NEW    ORLEANS 

EXPOSITION.   1883-1885  80 

V.  MORE  CHANGES.   1886-1888  115 

VI.   SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG.   1889-1890  143 

VII.    A  SUMMER   ABROAD.   1892-1893  164 

VIII.   "DIVERS  GOOD   CAUSES."   1890-1896  186 

IX.  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR.   1896-1897  214 

X.  THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER.   1897-1898  237 

XL   EIGHTY  YEARS.   1899-1900  258 

XII.   STEPPING  WESTWARD.    1901-1902  282 

XIII.  LOOKING  TOWARD   SUNSET.   1903-1905  308 

XIV.  "THE    SUNDOWN    SPLENDID    AND    SERENE."    > 

1906-1907  342 

XV.  "MINE  EYES  HAVE  SEEN  THE  GLORY  OF  THE 

COMING  OF  THE  LORD."   1908-1910  369 

INDEX  415 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Mrs.  Howe,  1895  (Photogravure)  Frontispiece 

From  a  photograph  taken  at  Newport,  R.I.,  July  25,  1895,  by  Alman  &  Co. 

Hall  Four  Generations:  Mrs.  Howe,  Mrs.  Hall,  Henry  Marion 
Hall,  Julia  Ward  Howe  Hall  46 

From  a  photograph,  1903 

Mrs.  Howe's  Boston  House,  241  Beacon  Street  80 

Interior,  241  Beacon  Street  96 

Julia  Romana  Anagnos  116 

Snapshot  in  the  Oak  Glen  Parlor  198 

Taken  by  Major  Dudley  Mills 
The  Six  Richards  Grandchildren  222 

From  a  photograph  by  R.  H.  Richards 

Mrs.  Howe  at  Oak  Glen,  1900  276 

From  a  photograph  by  John  Elliott 

Richards  Four  Generations:  Mrs.  Howe,  Mrs.  Richards,  Mrs. 
Shaw,  Henry  Shaw  298 

From  a  photograph  by  C.  A.  Shaw,  1907 

Mrs.  Howe,  1905  330 

From  a  photograph  by  Underwood  and  Underwood 

Mrs.  Howe,  1908  376 

From  a  painting  by  John  Elliott 


JULIA  WARD  HOWE 


JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

CHAPTER   I 

EUROPE  REVISITED 

1877;  aet.  58 

A  MOMENT'S  MEDITATION  IN  COLOGNE  CATHEDRAL 

Enter  Life's  high  cathedral 

With  reverential  heart, 
Its  lofty  oppositions 

Matched  with  divinest  art. 

Thought  with  its  other  climbing 

To  meet  and  blend  on  high; 
Man's  mortal  and  immortal 

Wed  for  eternity. 

When  noon's  high  mass  is  over, 

Muse  in  the  silent  aisles; 
Wait  for  the  coming  vespers 

In  which  new  promise  smiles. 

When  from  the  dome  height  echoes 

An  "  Ite,  missa  est" 
Whisper  thy  last  thanksgiving, 

Depart,  and  take  thy  rest.  J.  W.  H. 

From  the  time  of  the  Doctor's  death  till  her  marriage 
in  1887,  the  youngest  daughter  was  her  mother's  com- 
panion and  yoke-fellow.  In  all  records  of  travel,  of 
cheer,  of  merriment,  she  can  say  thankfully:  "Et  ego 
in  Arcadia  vixi." 

The  spring  of  1877  found  the  elder  comrade  weary 
with  much  lecturing  and  presiding,  the  younger  some- 
what out  of  health.   Change  of  air  and  scene  was  pre- 


4  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

scribed,  and  the  two  sailed  for  Europe  early  in  May. 

Throughout  the  journeyings  which  followed,  our 
mother  had  two  objects  in  view:  to  see  her  own  kind 
of  people,  the  seekers,  the  students,  the  reformers,  and 
their  works;  and  to  give  Maud  the  most  vivid  first  im- 
pression of  all  that  would  be  interesting  and  valuable 
to  her.  These  objects  were  not  always  easy  to  combine. 

After  a  few  days  at  Chester  (where  she  laments  the 
"restoration"  of  the  fine  old  oak  of  the  cathedral, 
"now  shining  like  new,  after  a  boiling  in  potash")  and 
a  glimpse  of  Hawarden  and  Warwick,  they  proceeded 
to  London  and  took  lodgings  in  Bloomsbury  (a  quarter 
of  high  fashion  when  she  first  knew  London,  now  given 
over  to  lodgings).  Once  settled,  she  lost  no  time  in 
establishing  relations  with  friends  old  and  new.  The 
Unitarian  Association  was  holding  its  annual  con- 
ference; one  of  the  first  entries  in  the  Journal  tells  of 
her  attending  the  Unitarian  breakfast  where  she  spoke 
about  "the  poor  children  and  the  Sunday  schools." 

Among  her  earliest  visitors  was  Charles  Stewart 
Parnell,  of  whom  she  says:  — 

"Mrs.  Delia  Stewart  Parnell,  whom  I  had  known 
in  America,  had  given  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  her 
son,  Charles,  who  was  already  conspicuous  as  an  ad- 
vocate of  Home  Rule  for  Ireland.  He  called  upon  me 
and  appointed  a  day  when  I  should  go  with  him  to  the 
House  of  Commons.  He  came  in  his  brougham  and 
saw  me  safely  deposited  in  the  ladies'  gallery.  He  was 
then  at  the  outset  of  his  stormy  career,  and  his  sister 
Fanny  told  me  that  he  had  in  Parliament  but  one  sup- 
porter of  his  views,  'a  man  named  Biggar.'    He  cer- 


EUROPE  REVISITED  5 

tainly  had  admirers  elsewhere,  for  I  remember  having 
met  a  disciple  of  his,  O'Connor  by  name,  at  a  'rout' 
given  by  Mrs.  Justin  McCarthy.  I  asked  this  lady  if 
her  husband  agreed  with  Mr.  Parnell.  She  replied  with 
warmth,  'Of  course;  we  are  all  Home  Rulers  here.'" 

"May  26.  To  Floral  Hall  concert,  where  heard 
Patti  —  and  many  others  —  a  good  concert.  In  the 
evening  to  Lord  Houghton's,  where  made  acquaint- 
ance of  Augustus  Hare,  author  of  'Memorials  of  a 
Quiet  Life,'  etc.,  with  Mrs.  Proctor,  Mrs.  Singleton 
[Violet  Fane],  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Schliemann,  and  others, 
among  them  Edmund  Yates.  Lord  Houghton  was  most 
polite  and  attentive.   Robert  Browning  was  there." 

Whistler  was  of  the  party  that  evening.  His  hair  was 
then  quite  black,  and  the  curious  white  forelock  which 
he  wore  combed  high  like  a  feather,  together  with  his 
striking  dress,  made  him  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
figures  in  the  London  of  that  day.  Henry  Irving  came 
in  late:  "A  rather  awkward  man,  whose  performance  of 
'Hamlet'  was  much  talked  of  at  that  time."  She  met 
the  Schliemanns  often,  and  heard  Mrs.  Schliemann 
speak  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  where 
she  made  a  plea  for  the  modern  pronunciation  of  Greek. 
In  order  to  help  her  husband  in  his  work,  Mrs.  Schlie- 
mann told  her,  she  had  committed  to  memory  long 
passages  from  Homer  which  proved  of  great  use  to 
him  in  his  researches  at  Mycenae  and  Tiryns. 

"May  27.  .  .  .  Met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wood  — he  has 
excavated  the  ruins  at  Ephesus,  and  has  found  the  site 


6  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

of  the  Temple  of  Diana.  His  wife  has  helped  him  in  his 
work,  and  having  some  practical  experience  in  the  use 
of  remedies,  she  gave  much  relief  to  the  sick  men  and 
women  of  the  country." 

"June  2.  Westminster  Abbey  at  2  p.m.  ...  I  en- 
joyed the  service,  Mendelssohn's  'Hymn  of  Praise,* 
Dean  Stanley's  sermon,  and  so  on,  very  unusually. 
Edward  Twisleton  seemed  to  come  back  to  me,  and  so 
did  dear  Chev,  and  a  spiritual  host  of  blessed  ones  who 
have  passed  within  the  veil.  .  .  ." 

"June  H.  Breakfast  with  Mr.  Gladstone.  Grosve- 
nor  Gallery  with  the  Seeleys.  Prayer  meeting  at  Lady 
Gainsborough's. 

"We  were  a  little  early,  for  Mrs.  Gladstone  com- 
plained that  the  flowers  ordered  from  her  country  seat 
had  but  just  arrived.  A  daughter  of  the  house  pro- 
ceeded to  arrange  them.  Breakfast  was  served  at  two 
round  tables,  exactly  alike. 

"I  was  glad  to  find  myself  seated  between  the  great 
man  and  the  Greek  minister,  John  Gennadius.  The 
talk  ran  a  good  deal  upon  Hellenics,  and  I  spoke  of  the 
influence  of  the  Greek  in  the  formation  of  the  Italian 
language,  to  which  Mr.  Gladstone  did  not  agree.  I 
know  that  scholars  differ  on  the  point,  but  I  still  retain 
the  opinion  I  expressed.  I  ventured  a  timid  remark 
regarding  the  number  of  Greek  derivatives  used  in  our 
common  English  speech.  Mr.  Gladstone  said  very 
abruptly,  'How?  What?  English  words  derived  from 
Greek?'  and  almost 

"  '  Frightened  Miss  Muffet  away.' 

"He  is  said  to  be  habitually  disputatious,  and  I 


EUROPE  REVISITED  7 

thought  that  this  must  certainly  be  the  case;  for  he 
surely  knew  better  than  most  people  how  largely  and 
familiarly  we  incorporate  the  words  of  Plato,  Aristotle, 
and  Xenophon  in  our  everyday  talk."  * 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  still  playing  the  first  role  on  the 
stage  of  London  life.  Our  mother  notes  hearing  him 
open  the  discussion  that  followed  Mrs.  Schliemann's 
address  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  Lord 
Rosebery,  who  was  at  that  time  Mr.  Gladstone's  pri- 
vate secretary,  talked  much  of  his  chief,  for  whom  he 
expressed  impassioned  devotion.  Rosebery,  though  he 
must  have  been  a  man  past  thirty  at  the  time,  looked  a 
mere  boy.  His  affection  for  "  Uncle  Sam  "  Ward  was  as 
loyal  as  that  for  his  chief,  and  it  was  on  his  account 
that  he  paid  our  mother  some  attention  when  she  was 
in  London. 

She  always  remembered  this  visit  as  one  of  the  most 
interesting  of  the  many  she  made  to  the  "province  in 
brick."  She  was  driving  three  horses  abreast,  —  her 
own  life,  Maud's  life,  the  life  of  London.  She  often 
spoke  of  the  great  interest  of  seeing  so  many  different 
circles  of  London  society;  likening  it  to  a  layer  cake, 
which  a  fortunate  stranger  is  able  to  cut  through,  en- 
joying a  little  of  each.  Her  modest  Bloomsbury  lodg- 
ings were  often  crowded  by  the  leaders  of  the  world  of 
letters,  philanthropy,  and  art,  and  some  even  of  the 
world  of  fashion.  The  little  lodging-house  "slavey" 
was  often  awed  by  the  titles  on  the  cards  she  in- 
variably presented  between  a  work-worn  thumb  and 

1  Reminiscences,  pp.  411  and  412. 


8  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

finger.   It  is  curious  to  contrast  the  brief  record  of 
these  days  with  that  of  the  Peace  Crusade. 

"June  10.  To  morning  service  at  the  Foundling 
Hospital  —  very  touching.  To  luncheon  with  M.  G.  D. 
where  met  the  George  Howards." 

"June  15.  .  .  .  'Robert'  [opera]  with  Richard 
Mansfield." 

"June  18.  Synagogue." 

"June  19.  Lord  Mayor's  Mansion  House.  I  am  to 
speak  there  concerning  Laura  Bridgman.  Henry  James 
may  come  to  take  me  to  St.  Bart.'s  Hospital." 

"June  25.   'Messiah.'  Miss  Bryce." 

"June  26.  Dined  with  Capt.  Ward.  Theatre.  Jus- 
tin McCarthy." 

"June  28.  Meeting  in  Lambeth  Library." 

"June  29.  Russell  Gurney's  garden  party. 

"Miss  Marston's,  Onslow  Sq.,  4  p.m.  Anti- vivisec- 
tion. Met  Dudley  Campbell.  A  day  of  rest,  indeed.  I 
wrote  out  my  anti-vivisection  argument  for  to-morrow, 
and  finished  the  second  letter  to  the  Chicago '  Tribune.' 
Was  thus  alone  nearly  all  day.  Dined  at  Brentini's  in 
my  old  fashion,  chop,  tea,  and  beer,  costing  one  shilling 
and  fivepence." 

She  remembered  with  pleasure  an  evening  spent 
with  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Devonshire  at  Devon- 
shire House.  A  ball  at  Mr.  Goschen's  was  another  even- 
ing of  enchantment,  as  was  also  the  dinner  given  for 
her  at  Greenwich  by  Edmund  Yates,  where  she  had  a 
good  talk  with  Mr.  Mallock,  whose  "New  Republic" 


EUROPE  REVISITED  9 

was  one  of  the  books  of  that  season.  She  managed,  too, 
sometimes  to  be  at  home;  among  her  visitors  were 
William  Black,  John  Richard  Green,  and  Mr.  Knowles, 
editor  of  the  "Nineteenth  Century." 

The  London  visit  lasted  nearly  two  months;  as  the 
engagements  multiply,  its  records  grow  briefer  and 
briefer.    There  are  many  entries  like  the  following :  — ■ 

"Breakfast  with  Lord  Houghton,  where  met  Lord 
Granville  and  M.  Waddington,  late  Minister  of  Edu- 
cation in  France.  Garden  party  at  Chiswick  in  the 
afternoon.  Prince  of  Wales  there  with  his  eldest  son, 
Prince  Albert  Victor.  Mrs.  Julian  Goldsmith's  ball 
in  the  evening." 

It  is  remembered  that  she  bravely  watched  the 
dancers  foot  it  through  the  livelong  night,  and  drove 
home  by  daylight,  with  her  "poor  dancing  Maud"! 

Madame  Waddington  was  formerly  Miss  King,  the 
granddaughter  of  Mr.  Ward's  old  partner.  Our  mo- 
ther was  always  interested  in  meeting  any  descendants 
of  Prime,  Ward  &  King. 

With  all  this,  she  was  writing  letters  for  the  Chi- 
cago "Tribune"  and  the  "Woman's  Journal."  This 
year  of  1877  saw  the  height  of  the  ^Esthetic  move- 
ment. Mrs.  Langtry,  the  "Jersey  Lily,"  was  the 
beauty  and  toast  of  the  season.  Gilbert  and  Sullivan's 
"Patience"  was  the  dramatic  hit  of  the  year,  and 
"  Greenery  yallery,  Grosvenor  Gallery  "  the  most  popu- 
lar catch  of  the  day. 

She  found  it  hard  to  tear  herself  away  from  Eng- 
land; the  visit  (which  she  likened  to  one  at  the  house 
of  an  adored  grandmother)  was  over  all  too  soon.  But 


10  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

July  was  almost  gone;  and  the  two  travellers  finally 
left  the  enchanted  island  for  Holland,  recalling  Em- 
erson's advice  to  one  going  abroad  for  the  first  time : 
"A  year  for  England,  and  a  year  for  the  rest  of  the 
world!" 

The  much  neglected  Journal  now  takes  up  the  story. 

The  great  Franz  Hals  pictures  delighted  her  beyond 
measure.  She  always  bought  the  best  reproductions 
she  could  afford,  and  valued  highly  an  etching  that 
she  owned  from  his  Bohemienne.  She  never  waited 
for  any  authority  to  admire  either  a  work  of  art  or 
a  person.  She  had  much  to  say  about  the  influence 
of  the  Dutch  blood  both  in  our  own  family  and  in  our 
country,  which  was  to  her  merely  a  larger  family  con- 
nection. All  through  Holland  she  was  constantly  not- 
ing customs  and  traditions  which  we  seemed  to  have 
inherited;  and  she  felt  a  great  likeness  and  sympathy 
between  herself  and  some  of  the  Dutch  people  she 
knew. 

"The  Hague.  To  the  old  prison  where  the  instru- 
ments of  torture  are  preserved.  The  prison  itself  is  so 
dark  and  bare  that  to  stay  therein  was  a  living  death. 
To  this  was  often  added  the  most  cruel  torture.  The 
poor  wretch  was  stretched  on  a  cross,  on  which  re- 
volving wheels,  turned  by  a  crank,  agonized  and  de- 
stroyed his  spinal  column  —  or,  by  another  machine, 
his  head  and  feet  were  drawn  in  opposite  directions  — 
or,  his  limbs  were  stretched  out  and  every  bone  broken 
with  an  iron  bar.  Tortures  of  fire  and  water  were 
added.  Through  all  these  horrors,  I  saw  the  splendors 


EUROPE  REVISITED  11 

of  faith  and  conscience  which  illuminated  these  dun- 
geons, and  which  enabled  frail  humanity  to  bear  these 
inflictions  without  flinching." 

She  always  wanted  to  see  the  torture  chambers.  She 
listened  to  all  the  detailed  explanations  and  looked  at 
all  the  dreadful  instruments,  buoyed  up  by  the  thought 
of  the  splendors  she  speaks  of,  when  mere  shrinking 
flesh-and-blood  creatures  like  her  companion,  who  only 
thought  of  the  poor  tortured  bodies,  could  not  bear 
the  strain  of  it. 

From  The  Hague  they  went  to  Amsterdam,  where 
they  "worked  hard  at  seeing  the  rich  museum,  which 
contains  some  of  the  largest  and  best  of  Rembrandt's 
pictures,  and  much  else  of  interest";  thence  to  Ant- 
werp.  Here  she  writes:  — 

"To  the  Museum,  where  saw  the  glorious  Rubens 
and  Van  Dycks,  together  with  the  Quentin  Matsys 
triptych.  Went  to  the  Cathedral,  and  saw  the  dear 
Rubens  pictures  —  my  Christ  in  the  Elevation  of  the 
Cross  seemed  to  me  as  wonderful  as  ever.  The  face 
asks,  '  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?'  but  seems  also 
to  reflect  the  answer,  from  the  very  countenance  of 
the  Father.  Education  of  the  Virgin  by  Rubens  — 
angels  hold  a  garland  above  the  studious  head  of  the 
young  Madonna.  This  would  be  a  good  picture  for 
Vassar." 

"  Sunday,  July  29.  Up  betimes  —  to  high  mass  at 
the  Cathedral.  Had  a  seat  near  the  Descent,  and  saw 
it  better  than  ever  before.  Could  not  see  the  Eleva- 
tion so  well,  but  feasted  my  eyes  on  both.  Went  later 
to  the  church  of  St.  Paul  where  Rubens's  Flagella- 


12  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

tion  is.  Found  it  very  beautiful.  At  4  p.m.  M.  Felu l 
came  to  take  us  to  the  Zoo,  which  is  uncommonly 
good.  The  collection  of  beasts  from  Africa  is  very  rich. 
They  are  also  successful  in  raising  wild  beasts,  having 
two  elephants,  a  tiger,  and  three  giraffes  which  have 
been  born  in  the  cages  —  some  young  lions  also.  The 
captive  lioness  always  destroyed  her  young,  and  these 
were  saved  by  being  given  to  a  dog  to  nurse.  ..." 

August  found  the  travellers  in  Prussia. 

"Passed  the  day  in  Berlin.  ...  At  night  took  rail- 
road for  Czerwinsk,  travelling  second-class.  After  se- 
curing our  seats,  as  we  supposed,  we  left  the  cars  to 
get  some  refreshments,  when  a  man  and  a  woman  dis- 
placed our  effects,  and  took  our  places.  The  woman 
refused  to  give  me  my  place,  and  annoyed  me  by  push- 
ing and  crowding  me." 

The  brutality  of  this  couple  was  almost  beyond  be- 
lief. She  was  always  so  gracious  to  fellow-travellers 
that  they  usually  "made  haste  to  be  kind"  in  return. 
She  made  it  a  point  to  converse  with  the  intelligent- 
looking  people  she  met,  either  in  the  train  or  at  the 
tables  d'hote  then  still  in  vogue.  She  talked  with  these 
chance  acquaintances  of  their  country  or  their  pro- 
fession.  It  was  never  mere  idle  conversation. 

This  journey  across  Europe  was  undertaken  solely 
for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  sister,  always  her  first 
object  in  visiting  Europe.  The  bond  between  them 
was  very  strong,  spite  of  the  wide  difference  of  their 
natures  and  the  dissimilarity  of  their  interests.    Mrs. 

1  The  armless  painter.  See  ante,  vol.  I,  chap.  xn. 


EUROPE  REVISITED  13 

Terry  was  now  visiting  her  eldest  daughter,  Annie 
Crawford,  married  to  Baron  Eric  von  Rabe  and  living 
at  Lesnian  in  German  Poland.  Baron  Eric  had  served 
in  the  Franco-Prussian  War  with  distinction,  had  been 
seriously  wounded,  and  obliged  to  retire  from  active 
service.  Here  was  an  entirely  new  social  atmosphere, 
the  most  conservative  in  Europe.  Even  before  the 
travellers  arrived,  the  shadow  of  formality  had  fallen 
upon  them;  for  Mrs.  Terry  had  written  begging  that 
they  would  arrive  by  "first-class"!  At  that  time  the 
saying  was,  "Only  princes,  Americans,  and  fools  travel 
first-class,"  and  our  mother's  rule  had  been  to  travel 
second.  The  journey  was  already  a  great  expense,  and 
the  added  cost  seemed  to  her  useless.  Accordingly, 
she  bought  second-class  tickets  to  a  neighboring  sta- 
tion and  first-class  ones  from  there  to  Czerwinsk.  This 
entailed  turning  out  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and 
waiting  an  hour  for  the  splendid  express  carrying  the 
stiff  and  magnificently  upholstered  first-class  carriages, 
whose  red  plush  seats  and  cushions  were  nothing  like 
so  comfortable  as  the  old  grey,  cloth-lined,  second- 
class  carriages! 

Still,  the  travellers  arrived  looking  as  proud  as  they 
could,  wearing  their  best  frocks  and  bonnets.  They 
travelled  with  the  Englishwoman's  outfit.  "Three 
suits.  High  turn,  tightum,  and  scrub."  "Hightum" 
was  for  any  chance  festivity,  "tightum"  for  the  table 
d'hote,  "scrub"  for  everyday  travelling.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  three  degrees  was  anxiously  discussed  on 
this  occasion;  it  was  finally  decided  that  only  "high- 
tum" would  come  up  to  the  Von  Rabe  standard. 


14  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"August  4-  Arrived  at  Czerwinsk,  where  sister  L. 
and  Baron  von  Rabe  met  us.  He  kissed  my  hand  in  a 
courtly  manner.  My  sister  looks  well,  but  has  had  a 
hard  time.  We  drove  to  Lesnian  where  Annie  von  R. 
and  her  mother-in-law  made  us  welcome." 

"August  9,  Lesnian.  A  quiet  day  at  home,  writing 
and  some  work.  Tea  with  Sister  L.  in  the  open  air. 
Then  went  with  Baron  von  Rabe  to  visit  his  farm 
buildings,  which  are  very  extensive;  not  so  nicely  fin- 
ished as  would  be  the  case  in  America.  We  got  many 
fleas  in  our  clothes.  ...  In  the  evening  the  Baron  be- 
gan to  dispute  with  me  concerning  the  French  and  the 
use  and  excellence  of  war,  etc.  ..." 

"August  l%.yUp  early  —  to  Czerwinsk  and  thence 
by  Dirschau  to  Marienburg  to  see  the  famous  Ritter- 
schloss  of  the  Teutonic  Knights.  .  .  .  Marien-Kirch. 
.  .  .  Angel  Michael  weighing  the  souls,  a  triptych  — 
the  good  in  right  wing  received  by  St.  Peter  and 
clothed  by  angels,  the  wicked  in  the  other  wing 
going  down.  The  beautiful  sheen  of  the  Archangel  — 
like  peacock  brightness  —  a  devil  with  butterfly 
wings." 

"August  H.  In  the  church  yesterday  we  were  shown 
five  holes  in  a  flat  tombstone.  They  say  that  a  par- 
ricide was  buried  beneath  this  stone,  and  the  fingers 
of  his  hand  forced  themselves  through  these  holes. 
They  showed  us  this  hand,  dried,  and  hung  up  in  a 
chapel.  Here  also  we  saw  a  piece  of  embroidery  in  fine 
pearls,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Catholic  service,  and 
worth  thousands  of  dollars.  Some  very  ancient  priests' 
garments,  with  Arabic  designs,  were  said  to  have  been 


EUROPE  REVISITED  15 

brought  from  the  East  by  the  Crusaders.  An  astro- 
nomic clock  is  shown  in  the  church.  The  man  who  made 
it  set  about  making  another,  but  was  made  blind  lest 
he  should  do  so.  By  and  by,  pretending  that  he  must 
repair  or  regulate  something  in  the  clock,  he  so  puts  it 
out  of  order  that  it  never  goes  again. 

"  The  amber-merchant  —  the  felt  shoes  —  views  of 
America  —  the  lecture  —  the  Baltic." 

She  was  enchanted  with  Dantzig.  The  ancient 
Polish  Jews  in  their  long  cloth  gabardines,  with  their 
hair  dressed  in  two  curls  worn  in  front  of  the  ear  and 
hanging  down  on  either  side  of  the  face,  showed  her 
how  Shy  lock  must  have  looked.  She  was  far  more 
interested  in  the  relics  of  the  old  Polish  civilization 
than  in  the  crude,  brand-new  Prussian  regime  which 
was  replacing  it;  but  this  did  not  suit  her  hosts.  The 
peasants  who  worked  on  the  estate  were  all  Poles;  the 
relations  between  them  and  their  employer  smacked 
strongly  of  serfdom.  One  very  intelligent  man,  who 
often  drove  her,  was  called  Zalinski.  It  struck  her  that 
this  man  might  be  related  to  her  friend  Lieutenant 
Zalinski,  of  the  United  States  Army.  She  asked  him  if 
he  had  any  relatives  in  America.  He  replied  that  a 
brother  of  his  had  gone  to  America  many  years  be- 
fore. He  seemed  deeply  interested  in  the  conversation 
and  tried  once  or  twice  to  renew  it.  One  of  the  family, 
who  was  driving  with  our  mother  at  the  time,  man- 
aged to  prevent  any  more  talk  about  the  American 
Zalinski,  and  when  the  drive  was  over  she  was  seri- 
ously called  to  account. 


16  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"Can  you  not  see  that  it  would  be  extremely  un- 
fortunate if  one  of  our  servants  should  learn  that  any 
relative  of  his  could  possibly  be  a  friend  of  one  of  our 
guests?" 

She  was  never  allowed  to  see  Zalinski  again;  on  in- 
quiring for  him,  she  learned  that  he  had  been  sent  to  a 
fair  with  horses  to  sell.  He  did  not  return  to  Lesnian 
during  the  remainder  of  her  stay. 

One  of  the  picturesque  features  of  the  visit  was  the 
celebration  of  Baron  Eric's  birthday.  It  was  a  general 
holiday,  and  no  work  was  done  on  the  estate.  After 
breakfast  family  and  guests  assembled  in  front  of  the 
old  chateau;  the  baron,  a  fine,  soldierly-looking  man, 
his  wife,  the  most  graceful  of  women,  and  the  only 
daughter,  a  lovely  little  girl  with  the  well-chiselled 
Crawford  features.  The  peasants,  dressed  in  their  best, 
assembled  in  procession  in  the  driveway;  one  by  one, 
in  order  of  their  age  or  position,  they  came  up  the  steps, 
presented  the  Baroness  with  a  bouquet,  bent  the  knee 
and  kissed  the  hand  of  Baron  and  Baroness.  To  most  of 
the  guests  the  picture  was  full  of  Old-World  romance 
and  charm.  To  one  it  was  an  offence.  That  the  grand- 
daughter of  her  father,  the  child  of  her  adored  sister, 
should  have  been  placed  by  fate  in  this  feudal  relation- 
ship to  the  men  and  women  by  whose  labor  she  lived 
outraged  her  democratic  soul. 

The  Journal  thus  describes  the  days  at  Lesnian :  — 

"The  Baron  talked  much  last  evening,  first  about 
his  crops,  then  about  other  matters.  He  believes  duel- 
ling to  be  the  most  efficient  agency  in  promoting  a 
polite  state  of  society.   Would  kill  any  one  whom  he 


EUROPE  REVISITED  17 

suspected  of  great  wrong  much  sooner  than  bring  him 
to  justice.  The  law,  he  says,  is  slow  and  uncertain  — 
the  decision  of  the  sword  much  more  effectual.  The 
present  Government  favors  duelling.  If  he  should  kill 
some  one  in  a  duel,  he  would  have  two  months  of  im- 
prisonment only.  He  despises  the  English  as  a  nation 
of  merchants.  The  old  German  knights  seem  to  be  his 
models.  With  these  barbarous  opinions,  he  seems  to 
be  personally  an  amiable  and  estimable  man.  Despises 
University  education,  in  whose  course  he  might  have 
come  in  contact  with  the  son  of  a  carpenter,  or  small 
shopkeeper  —  he  himself  went  to  a  Gymnase,  with 
sons  of  gentlemen.  ..." 

"Everything  in  the  Junkerschaft x  bristles  for  an- 
other war.  Oscar  von  Rabe's  room,  in  which  I  now 
write,  contains  only  books  of  military  drill. 

"This  day  we  visited  the  schoolhouse  —  session 
over,  air  of  the  room  perfectly  fetid.  Schoolmaster, 
whom  we  did  not  see,  a  Pole  —  his  sister  could  speak 
no  German.  Tattered  primers  in  German.  Visited  the 
Jew,  who  keeps  the  only  shop  in  Lesnian.  Found  a 
regular  country  assortment.  He  very  civil.  Gasthaus 
opposite,  a  shanty,  with  a  beer-glass,  coffee-cup  and 
saucer  rudely  painted  on  its  whitewashed  boards. 
Shoemaker  in  a  damp  hovel,  with  mahogany  furniture, 
quite  handsome.  He  made  me  a  salaam  with  both 
hands  raised  to  his  head." 

"We  went  to  call  upon  Herr  von  Rohr,  at  Schen- 
skowkhan  —  an  extensive  estate.  I  had  put  on  my 
Cheney  silk  and  my  bonnet  as  a  great  parade.    Our 

1  The  Prussian  aristocracy. 


18  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

host  showed  us  his  house,  his  books  and  engravings  — 
he  has  several  etchings  by  Rembrandt.  Herr  von 
Mechlenberg,  public  librarian  of  Konigsberg,  a  learned 
little  old  man,  trotted  round  with  us.  We  had  coffee 
and  waffles.  Mechlenberg  considers  the  German 
tongue  a  very  ancient  one,  an  original  language,  not 
patched  up  like  French  and  English,  of  native  dialects 
mingled  with  Latin." 

In  one  of  her  letters  to  the  Chicago  "Tribune"  is  a 
significant  passage  written  from  Lesnian :  — 

"Having  seen  in  one  of  the  Dantzig  papers  the  an- 
nouncement that  a  certain  Professor  Blank  would  soon 
deliver  a  lecture  upon  America,  showing  the  folly  of 
headlong  emigration  thither  and  the  ill  fortune  which 
many  have  wrought  for  themselves  thereby,  one  of  us 
remarked  to  a  Dantziger  that  in  such  a  lecture  many 
untruths  would  probably  be  uttered.  Our  friend  re- 
plied, with  a  self-gratulatory  laugh,  'Ah,  Madame! 
We  Germans  know  all  about  the  women  of  America. 
A  German  woman  is  devoted  to  her  household,  its  care 
and  management;  but  the  American  women  all  force 
their  husbands  to  live  in  hotels  in  order  that  they  may 
have  no  trouble  in  housekeeping.'" 

She  was  as  sensitive  to  criticism  of  her  country  as 
some  people  are  to  criticism  of  their  friends.  Through- 
out her  stay  in  Germany  she  suffered  from  the  captious 
and  provoking  tone  of  the  Prussian  press  about  things 
American. 

Even  in  the  churches  she  met  this  note  of  unfriend- 
liness. She  took  the  trouble  to  transcribe  in  her  Journal 
an  absurd  newspaper  story. 


EUROPE   REVISITED  19 

"  An  American  Woman  of  Business 

"Some  little  time  since,  a  man  living  near  Niagara 
Falls  had  the  misfortune  to  fall  from  the  bridge  leading 
to  Goat's  Island.  [Berlin  paper  says  Grat  Island.]  He 
was  immediately  hurried  to  the  edge  of  the  fearful 
precipice.  Here,  he  was  able  to  cling  to  a  ledge  of  rock, 
and  to  support  himself  for  half  an  hour,  until  his  un- 
avoidable fate  overtook  him.  A  compassionate  and 
excited  multitude  rushed  to  the  shore,  and  into  the 
house,  where  the  unhappy  wife  was  forced  to  behold 
the  death  struggle  of  her  husband,  lost  beyond  all 
rescue,  this  spot  yielding  the  best  view  of  the  scene  of 
horror.  The  '  excellent '  wife  had  too  much  coolness  to 
allow  this  opportunity  of  making  money  to  escape  her, 
but  collected  from  every  person  present  one  dollar  for 
window  rent.  (Berliner  Fremdenblatt,  Sunday,  August 
26,  1877.)" 

The  stab  was  from  a  two-edged  sword;  she  loved 
profoundly  the  great  German  writers  and  composers. 
She  was  ever  conscious  of  the  debt  she  owed  to  Ger- 
many's poets,  philosophers,  and  musicians.  Goethe 
had  been  one  of  her  earliest  sources  of  inspiration, 
Kant  her  guide  through  many  troublous  years;  Bee- 
thoven was  like  some  great  friend  whose  hand  had  led 
her  along  the  heights,  when  her  feet  were  bleeding  from 
the  stones  of  the  valley.  These  were  the  Germans  she 
knew;  her  Germany  was  theirs.  Now  she  came  in  con- 
tact with  this  new  Junker  Germany,  this  harsh,  mili- 
tary, unlovely  country  where  Bismarck  was  the  ruling 


20  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

spirit,  and  Von  Moltke  the  idol  of  the  hour.  It  was  a 
rough  awakening  for  one  who  had  lived  in  the  gentler 
Fatherland  of  Schiller  and  of  Schubert. 

"August  31,  Berlin.  Up  early,  and  with  carriage  to 
see  the  review.  ...  A  great  military  display.  The  Em- 
peror punctual  at  10.  iGuten  Morgen!*  shouted  the 
troops  when  he  came.  The  Crown  Princess  on  horse- 
back with  a  blue  badge,  Hussar  cap.  The  kettle-drum 
man  had  his  reins  hitched,  one  on  either  foot,  guiding 
his  horse  in  this  way,  and  beating  his  drums  with  both 
hands.  .  .  ." 

The  Crown  Princess,  later  the  Empress  Frederick, 
daughter  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  mother  of  the  present 
German  Emperor,  was  the  honorary  colonel  of  the 
hussar  regiment  whose  uniform  she  wore,  with  the 
addition  of  a  plain  black  riding-skirt.  Civilization 
owes  this  lady  a  debt  that  cannot  be  paid  save  in 
grateful  remembrance.  During  the  Franco-Prussian 
War  she  frequently  telegraphed  to  the  German  officers 
commanding  in  France,  urging  them  to  spare  the  works 
of  art  in  the  conquered  country.  Through  her  efforts 
the  studios  of  Rosa  Bonheur  and  other  famous  painters 
escaped  destruction. 

The  early  part  of  September  was  spent  in  Switzer- 
land. Chamounix  filled  the  travellers  with  delight. 
They  walked  up  the  Brevant,  rode  to  the  Mer  de 
Glace  on  muleback.  The  great  feature,  however,  of 
this  visit  to  Switzerland  was   the  Geneva   Congress, 


EUROPE  REVISITED  21 

called  by  Mrs.  Josephine  Butler  to  protest  against  the 
legalizing  of  vice  in  England. 

"At  the  Congress  to-day  —  spoke  in  French.  ...  I 
spoke  of  the  two  sides,  active  and  passive,  of  human 
nature,  and  of  the  tendency  of  the  education  given  to 
women  to  exaggerate  the  passive  side  of  their  character, 
whereby  they  easily  fall  victims  to  temptation.  Spoke 
of  the  exercise  of  the  intellectual  faculties  as  correcting 
these  tendencies  —  education  of  women  in  America  — 
progress  made.  Coeducation  and  the  worthier  rela- 
tions it  induces  between  young  men  and  women. 
Said,  where  society  thinks  little  of  women,  it  teaches 
them  to  think  little  of  themselves.  Said  of  marriage, 
that  Milton's  doctrine,  'He  for  God  only,  she  for  God 
in  him,'  was  partial  and  unjust.  '  Ce  Dieu,  il  faut  le 
mettre  entre  les  deux,  de  maniere  que  chacun  des  deux 
appartienne  premierement  a  Dieu,  puis  tous  les  deux 
Vun  a  V autre'" 

"Wish  to  take  up  what  Blank  said  to-day  of  the 
superiority  of  man.  Woman  being  created  second. 
That  is  no  mark  of  inferiority.  Shall  say,  this  doctrine 
of  inequality  very  dangerous.  Inferior  position,  in- 
ferior education,  legal  status,  etc.  Doctrine  of  morality 
quite  opposite.  If  wife  patient  and  husband  not,  wife 
superior  —  if  wife  chaste,  husband  not,  wife  superior. 
Each  indispensable  to  each  other,  and  to  the  whole. 
Gentlemen,  where  would  you  have  been  if  we  had  not 
cradled  and  tended  you?" 

"Congress.  .  .  .  Just  before  the  end  of  the  meeting 
Mr.  Stuart  came  to  me  and  said  that  Mrs.  Butler 


22  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

wished  me  to  speak  for  five  minutes.  After  some  hesi- 
tation I  said  that  I  would  try.  Felt  much  annoyed  at 
being  asked  so  late.  Went  up  to  the  platform  and  did 
pretty  well  in  French.  The  audience  applauded, 
laughing  a  little  at  some  points.  In  fact,  my  little 
speech  was  a  decided  success  with  the  French-speak- 
ing part  of  the  audience.  Two  or  three  Englishwomen 
who  understood  very  little  of  it  found  fault  with  me 
for  occasioning  laughter.  To  the  banquet.  ..." 

"  September  23.  This  morning  Mrs.  Sheldon  Ames 
and  her  brother  came  to  ask  whether  I  would  go  to 
Germany  on  a  special  mission.  Miss  Bolte  also  wished 
me  to  go  to  Baden  Baden  to  see  the  Empress  of  Ger- 
many." 

"September  21^.  A  conference  of  Swiss  and  English 
women  at  11  a.m.  A  sister  of  John  Stuart  Mill  spoke, 
like  the  other  English  ladies,  in  very  bad  French. 
'Nous  femmes'  said  she  repeatedly.  She  seemed  a 
good  woman,  but  travelled  far  from  the  subject  of  the 
meeting,  which  was  the  work  to  be  done  to  carry  out 
what  the  Congress  had  suggested.  Mrs.  Blank,  of 
Bristol,  read  a  paper  in  the  worst  French  I  ever  heard. 
*  Ouvrager'  for  'travailler'  was  one  of  her  mistakes." 

In  spite  of  some  slight  criticisms  on  the  manage- 
ment of  this  Congress,  she  was  heart  and  soul  in  sym- 
pathy with  its  object;  and  until  the  last  day  of  her  life, 
never  ceased  to  battle  for  the  higher  morality  which  at 
all  costs  protests  against  the  legalizing  of  vice. 

Before  leaving  Geneva  she  writes :  — 

"To  Ferney  in  omnibus.  The  little  church  with  its 


EUROPE  REVISITED  23 

inscription  'Deo  erexit  Voltaire?  and  the  date.  ...  I 
remember  visiting  Ferney  with  dear  Chev;  remember 
that  he  did  not  wish  me  to  see  the  model  [of  Madame 
Du  Chatelet's  monument]  lest  it  should  givemegloomy 
thoughts  about  my  condition  —  she  died  in  childbirth, 
and  the  design  represents  her  with  her  infant  bursting 
the  tomb." 

October  found  the  travellers  in  Paris,  the  elder  still 
intent  on  affairs  of  study  and  reform,  the  younger 
grasping  eagerly  at  each  new  wonder  or  beauty. 

There  were  meetings  of  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts, 
the  Institute  of  France,  the  Court  of  Assizes :  teachers' 
meetings,  too,  and  dinners  with  deaconesses  (whom 
she  found  a  pleasant  combination  of  cheerfulness  and 
gravity),  and  with  friends  who  took  her  to  the  theatre. 

"To  Palais  de  Justice.  Court  of  Assizes  —  a  young 
man  to  be  condemned  for  an  offence  against  a  girl  of 
ten  or  twelve,  and  then  to  be  tried  for  attempt  to  kill 
his  brother  and  brother-in-law.  .  .  . 

"We  were  obliged  to  leave  before  the  conclusion  of 
the  trial,  but  learned  that  its  duration  was  short,  end- 
ing in  a  verdict  of  guilty,  and  sentence  of  death.  In 
the  days  that  followed  our  thoughts  often  visited  this 
unfortunate  man  in  his  cell,  so  young,  apparently  with- 
out friends  —  his  nearest  relatives  giving  evidence 
against  him,  and,  in  fact,  bringing  the  suit  that  cost 
his  life.  It  seems  less  than  Mosaic  justice  to  put  a  man 
to  death  for  a  murder  which,  though  attempted,  was 
not  actually  committed.  A  life  for  a  life  is  the  old  doc- 
trine. This  is  a  life  for  an  attempt  upon  a  life." 


24  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

An  essay  on  Paris,  written  soon  after,  recalls  further 
memories.  She  visited  the  French  Parliament,  and  was 
surprised  at  the  noise  and  excitement  which  prevailed. 

"The  presiding  officer  agitates  his  bell  again  and 
again,  to  no  purpose.  He  constantly  cries,  in  piteous 
tone:  'Gentlemen,  a  little  silence,  if  you  please. ": 

She  tells  how  "one  of  the  ushers  with  great  pride 
pointed  out  Victor  Hugo  in  his  seat,"  and  says  further: 

"I  have  seen  this  venerable  man  of  letters  several 
times,  —  once  in  his  own  house.  . . .  We  were  first  shown 
into  an  anteroom,  and  presently  into  a  small  drawing- 
room.  The  venerable  viscount  kissed  my  hand  .  .  . 
with  the  courtesy  belonging  to  other  times.  He  was  of 
middle  height,  reasonably  stout.  His  eyes  were  dark 
and  expressive,  and  his  hair  and  beard  were  snow- 
white.  Several  guests  were  present.  .  .  .  Victor  Hugo 
seated  himself  alone  upon  a  sofa,  and  talked  to  no  one. 
While  the  rest  of  the  company  kept  up  a  desultory 
conversation,  a  servant  announced  M.  Louis  Blanc, 
and  our  expectations  were  raised  only  to  be  immediately 
lowered,  for  at  this  announcement  Victor  Hugo  arose 
and  withdrew  into  another  room,  from  which  we  were 
able  to  hear  the  two  voices  in  earnest  conversation. ..." 

"November  27.  Packing  to  leave  Paris  to-night  for 
Turin.  The  blanks  left  in  my  diary  do  not  mark  idle 
days.  I  have  been  exceedingly  busy,  .  .  .  have  written 
at  least  five  newspaper  letters,  and  some  other  cor- 
respondence. Grieved  this  morning  over  the  time 
wasted  at  shop  windows,  in  desiring  foolish  articles 
which  I  could  not  afford  to  buy,  especially  diamonds, 
which  I  do  not  need  for  my  way  of  life.  Yet  I  have  had 


EUROPE  REVISITED  25 

more  good  from  my  stay  in  Paris  than  this  empty 
Journal  would  indicate.  Have  seen  many  earnest  men 
and  women  —  have  delivered  a  lecture  in  French  — 
have  started  a  club  of  English  and  American  women 
students,  for  which  Deo  gratias  I  Farewell,  dear  Paris, 
God  keep  and  save  thee!" 

She  mentions  this  club  in  the  "Reminiscences."  "I 
found  in  Paris  a  number  of  young  women,  students 
of  art  and  medicine,  who  appeared  to  lead  very  iso- 
lated lives  and  to  have  little  or  no  acquaintance  with 
one  another.  The  need  of  a  point  of  social  union  for 
these  young  people  appearing  to  me  very  great,  I  in- 
vited a  few  of  them  to  meet  me  at  my  lodgings.  After 
some  discussion  we  succeeded  in  organizing  a  small 
club,  which,  I  am  told,  still  exists.  ...  [If  we  are  not 
mistaken,  this  small  club  was  a  mustard  seed  which  in 
time  grew  into  the  goodly  tree  of  the  American  Girls' 
Club.]  I  was  invited  several  times  to  speak  while  in 
Paris.  ...  I  spoke  in  French  without  notes.  .  .  .  Be- 
fore leaving  Paris  I  was  invited  to  take  part  in  a  con- 
gress of  woman's  rights.  It  was  deemed  proper  to  elect 
two  presidents  for  this  occasion,  and  I  had  the  honor 
of  being  chosen  as  one  of  them.  .  .  . 

"Somewhat  in  contrast  with  these  sober  doings  was 
a  ball  given  by  the  artist  Healy  at  his  residence.  I  had 
told  Mrs.  Healy  in  jest  that  I  should  insist  upon  danc- 
ing with  her  husband.  Soon  after  my  entrance  she 
said  to  me,  'Mrs.  Howe,  your  quadrille  is  ready  for 
you.  See  what  company  you  are  to  have.'  I  looked 
and  beheld  General  Grant  and  M.  Gambetta,  who  led 


26  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

out  Mrs.  Grant,  while  her  husband  had  Mrs.  Healy  for 
his  partner  in  the  quadrille  of  honor.  .  .  .  Marshal 
MacMahon  was  at  this  time  President  of  the  French 
Republic.  I  attended  an  evening  reception  given  by 
him  in  honor  of  General  and  Mrs.  Grant.  Our  host 
was  supposed  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  Bonapartist 
faction,  and  I  heard  some  rumors  of  an  intended  coup 
d'etat  which  should  bring  back  imperialism  and  place 
Plon-Plon  [the  nickname  for  Prince  Napoleon]  on  the 
throne.  ...  I  remember  Marshal  MacMahon  as  a 
man  of  medium  height,  with  no  very  distinguishing 
feature.  He  was  dressed  in  uniform  and  wore  many 
decorations." 

During  this  visit  to  Paris,  our  mother  consorted 
largely  with  the  men  and  women  she  had  met  at  the 
Geneva  Congress.  She  takes  leave  of  Paris  with  these 
words:  "Better  than  the  filled  trunk  and  empty  purse, 
which  usually  mark  a  return  from  Paris,  will  be  a  full 
heart  and  a  hand  clasping  across  the  water  another 
hand  pure  and  resolute  as  itself." 

The  two  comrades  journeyed  southward  by  way  of 
Turin,  Milan,  and  Verona.  Of  the  last  place  the 
Journal  says :  — 

"Busy  in  Verona  -1-  first,  amphitheatre,  with  its 
numerous  cells,  those  of  the  wild  beasts  wholesomely 
lighted  and  aired,  those  of  the  prisoners,  dark  and 
noisome  and  often  without  light  of  any  kind.  .  .  .  Then 
to  the  tombs  of  the  Scaligers  —  grim  and  beautiful. 
Can  Signoria  who  killed  his  brother  was  the  last.  Can 
Grande,  Dante's  host." 


EUROPE  REVISITED  27 

In  Verona  she  was  full  of  visions  of  the  great  poet 
whose  exile  she  describes  in  the  poem  called,  "The 
Price  of  the  Divina  Commedia."  One  who  met  her 
there  remembers  the  extraordinary  vividness  of  her  im- 
pressions. It  was  as  if  she  had  seen  and  talked  with 
Dante,  had  heard  from  his  own  lips  how  hard  it  was  to 
eat  the  salt  and  go  up  and  down  the  stairs  of  others. 

From  Verona  to  Venice,  thence  to  Bologna.  Venice 
was  an  old  friend  always  revisited  with  delight.  Bo- 
logna was  new  to  her;  here  she  found  traces  of  the  not- 
able women  of  its  past.  In  the  University  she  was 
shown  the  recitation  room  where  the  beautiful  female 
professor  of  anatomy  is  said  to  have  given  her  lectures 
from  behind  a  curtain,  in  order  that  the  students'  at- 
tention should  not  be  distracted  from  her  words  of 
wisdom  by  her  beauty.  In  the  picture  gallery  she 
found  out  the  work  of  Elisabetta  Sirani,  one  of  the 
good  painters  of  the  Bolognese  school. 

And  now,  after  twenty-seven  years,  her  road  led 
once  more  to  Rome. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  ROMAN  WINTER 

1878-1879;   art.  59-60 

JANUARY  9,1878 

A  voice  of  sorrow  shakes  the  solemn  pines 

Within  the  borders  of  the  Apennines; 

A  sombre  vision  veils  the  evening  red, 

A  shuddering  whisper  says:  the  King  is  dead. 

Low  lies  he  near  the  throne 
That  strange  desert  and  fortune  made  his  own; 
And  at  his  life's  completion,  from  his  birth 
In  one  fair  record,  men  recount  his  worth. 

Chief  of  the  Vatican! 
Heir  of  the  Peter  who  his  Lord  denied, 
Not  of  the  faith  which  that  offence  might  hide, 
Boast  not,  "I  live,  while  he  is  coldly  laid." 
Say  rather,  in  the  jostling  mortal  race 
He  first  doth  look  on  the  All-father's  face. 
Life's  triple  crown  absolved  weareth  he, 
Clear  Past,  sad  Present,  fond  Futurity. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  travellers  arrived  in  Rome  in  good  time  for  the 
Christmas  dinner  at  Palazzo  Odescalchi,  where  they 
found  the  Terry s  and  Marion  Crawford.  On  Decem- 
ber 31  our  mother  writes:  — 

"The  last  day  of  a  year  whose  beginning  found  me 
full  of  work  and  fatigue.  Beginning  for  me  in  a  Western 
railway  car,  it  ends  in  a  Roman  palace  —  a  long  stretch 
of  travel  lying  between.  Let  me  here  record  that  this 
year  has  brought  me  much  good  and  pleasure,  as  well 
as  some  regrets.  My  European  tour  was  undertaken 
for  dear  Maud's  sake.  It  took  me  away  from  the  dear 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  29 

ones  at  home,  and  from  opportunities  of  work  which 
I  should  have  prized  highly.  I  was  President  of  the 
Woman's  Congress,  and  to  be  absent  not  only  from  its 
meeting,  but  also  from  its  preparatory  work,  caused  me 
great  regret.  On  the  other  hand,  I  saw  delightful  peo- 
ple in  England,  and  have  seen,  besides  the  old  re- 
membered delights,  many  places  which  I  never  visited 
before.  ...  I  am  now  with  my  dear  sister,  around 
whom  the  shadows  of  existence  deepen.  I  am  glad  to 
be  with  her;  though  I  can  do  so  little  for  her,  she  is 
doing  very  much  for  me." 

This  was  a  season  of  extraordinary  interest  to  one 
who  had  always  loved  Italy  and  pleaded  for  a  generous 
policy  toward  her.  Early  in  January  it  became  known 
that  King  Victor  Emanuel  was  dying.  At  the  Vatican 
his  life-long  adversary  Pius  IX  was  wasting  away  with 
a  mortal  disease.  It  was  a  time  of  suspense.  The  two 
had  fought  a  long  and  obstinate  duel :  which  of  them, 
people  asked,  would  yield  first  to  the  conqueror  on  the 
pale  horse?  There  were  those  among  the  "Blacks"  of 
Rome  who  would  have  denied  the  last  sacrament  to 
the  dying  King.  "No ! "  said  Pio  Nono ;  " he  has  always 
been  a  good  Catholic;  he  shall  not  die  without  the 
sacrament!"  On  the  9th  of  January  the  King  died,  and 
"the  ransomed  land  mourned  its  sovereign  as  with  one 
heart."  » 

"January  12.  Have  just  been  to  see  the  new  King 
[Umberto  I]  review  the  troops,  and  receive  the  oath 

1  Reminiscences,  p.  423. 


30  JULIA  WAKD  HOWE 

of  allegiance  from  the  army.  The  King's  horse  was 
a  fine  light  sorrel  —  he  in  full  uniform,  with  light  blue 
trousers.  In  Piazza  del  Independenza.  We  at  the 
American  Consulate.  Much  acclamation  and  waving 
of  handkerchiefs.  Went  at  5  in  the  afternoon  to  see  the 
dead  King  lying  in  state.  His  body  was  shown  set  on 
an  inclined  plane,  the  foreshortening  disfigured  his 
poor  face  dreadfully,  making  his  heavy  moustache 
to  look  as  if  it  were  his  eyebrows.  Behind  him  a 
beautiful  ermine  canopy  reached  nearly  to  the  ceil- 
ing —  below  him  the  crown  and  sceptre  on  a  cushion. 
Castellani's  beautiful  gold  crown  is  to  be  buried  with 
him." 

She  says  of  the  funeral :  — 

"The  monarch's  remains  were  borne  in  a  crimson 
coach  of  state,  drawn  by  six  horses.  His  own  favorite 
war-horse  followed,  veiled  in  crape,  the  stirrups  hold- 
ing the  King's  boots  and  spurs,  turned  backward. 
Nobles  and  servants  of  great  houses  in  brilliant  cos- 
tumes, bareheaded,  carrying  in  their  hands  lighted 
torches  of  wax.  ...  As  the  cortege  swept  by,  I  dropped 
my  tribute  of  flowers.1  ..." 

"January  19.  To  Parliament,  to  see  the  mutual 
taking  of  oaths  between  the  new  King  and  the  Parlia- 
ment. Had  difficulty  in  getting  in.  Sat  on  carpeted 
stair  near  Mrs.  Carson.  Queen  came  at  two  in  the 
afternoon.  Sat  in  a  loggia  ornamented  with  red  velvet 
and  gold.  Her  entrance  much  applauded.  With  her 
the  little  Prince  of  Naples,2  her  son;  the  Queen  of 
Portugal,  her  sister-in-law;  and  Prince  of  Portugal, 

1  Reminiscences,  p.  423.       2  The  present  King,  Victor  Emanuel  III. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  31 

son  of  the  latter.  The  King  entered  soon  after  two  — 
he  took  the  oath  standing  bareheaded,  then  signed 
some  record  of  it.  The  oath  was  then  administered 
to  Prince  Amadeo  and  Prince  de  Carignan,  then  in 
alphabetical  order  to  the  Senate  and  afterwards  to  the 
Deputies." 

A  month  later,  Pio  Nono  laid  down  the  burden  of 
his  years.   She  says  of  this :  — 

"Pope  Pius  IX  had  reigned  too  long  to  be  deeply 
mourned  by  his  spiritual  subjects,  one  of  whom  re- 
marked in  answer  to  condolence,  'I  should  think  he 
had  lived  long  enough!'" 

The  winter  passed  swift  as  a  dream,  though  not 
without  anxieties.  Roman  fever  was  then  the  bane  of 
American  travellers,  and  while  she  herself  suffered  only 
from  a  slight  indisposition,  Maud  was  seriously  ill. 
There  was  no  time  for  her  Journal,  but  some  of  the 
impressions  of  that  memorable  season  are  recorded  in 
verse. 

Sea,  sky,  and  moon-crowned  mountain,  one  fair  world, 
Past,  Present,  Future,  one  Eternity. 
Divine  and  human  and  informing  soul, 
The  mystic  Trine  thought  never  can  resolve. 

One  of  the  great  pleasures  of  this  Roman  visit  was 
the  presence  of  her  nephew  Francis  Marion  Craw- 
ford. He  was  then  twenty-three  years  old,  and  ex- 
tremely handsome;  some  people  thought  him  like  the 
famous  bas-relief  of  Antinous  at  the  Villa  Albano. 
The  most  genial  and  companionable  of  men,  he  de- 
voted himself  to  his  aunt  and  was  her  guide  to  the  trat- 


32  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

toria  where  Goethe  used  to  dine,  to  Tasso's  Oak,  to 
the  innumerable  haunts  dedicated  to  the  poets  of 
every  age,  who  have  left  their  impress  on  the  Eternal 
City. 

Our  mother  always  loved  acting.  Her  nearest  ap- 
proach to  a  professional  appearance  took  place  this 
winter.  Madame  Ristori  was  in  Rome,  and  had  prom- 
ised to  read  at  an  entertainment  in  aid  of  some 
charity.  She  chose  for  her  selection  the  scene  from 
"Maria  Stuart"  where  the  unhappy  Queen  of  Scots 
meets  Elizabeth  and  after  a  fierce  altercation  triumphs 
over  her.  At  the  last  moment  the  lady  who  was  to 
impersonate  Elizabeth  fell  ill.  What  was  to  be  done? 
Some  one  suggested,  "Mrs.  Howe!"  The  "Remi- 
niscences" tell  how  she  was  "pressed  into  the  service," 
and  how  the  last  rehearsal  was  held  while  the  musical 
part  of  the  entertainment  was  going  on.  "Madame 
Ristori  made  me  repeat  my  part  several  times,  insist- 
ing that  my  manner  was  too  reserved  and  would  make 
hers  appear  extravagant.  I  did  my  best  to  conform  to 
her  wishes,  and  the  reading  was  duly  applauded."  x 

Another  performance  was  arranged  in  which  Ma- 
dame Ristori  gave  the  sleep-walking  scene  from  "Mac- 
beth." The  question  arose  as  to  who  should  take  the 
part  of  the  attendant. 

"Why  not  your  sister?"  said  Ristori  to  Mrs.  Terry. 
"No  one  could  do  it  better!" 

In  the  spring,  the  travellers  made  a  short  tour  in 
southern  Italy.  One  memory  of  it  is  given  in  the 
following  verses :  — 

1  Reminiscences,  p.  425. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  33 

NEAR   AMALFI 

Hurry,  hurry,  little  town, 
With  thy  labor  up  and  down. 
Clang  the  forge  and  roll  the  wheels, 
Spring  the  shuttle,  twirl  the  reels. 
Hunger  comes. 

Every  woman  with  her  hand 
Shares  the  labor  of  the  land; 
Every  child  the  burthen  bears, 
And  the  soil  of  labor  wears. 
Hunger  comes. 

In  the  shops  of  wine  and  oil 
For  the  scanty  house  of  toil; 
Give  just  measure,  housewife  grave, 
Thrifty  shouldst  thou  be,  and  brave. 
Hunger  comes. 

Only  here  the  blind  man  lags, 
Here  the  cripple,  clothed  with  rags. 
Such  a  motley  Lazarus 
Shakes  his  piteous  cap  at  us. 
Hunger  comes. 

Oh!  could  Jesus  pass  this  way 
Ye  should  have  no  need  to  pray. 
He  would  go  on  foot  to  see 
All  your  depths  of  misery. 
Succor  comes. 

He  would  smooth  your  frowzled  hair, 
He  would  lay  your  ulcers  bare, 
He  would  heal  as  only  can 
Soul  of  God  in  heart  of  man. 
Jesus  comes. 

Ah!  my  Jesus!  still  thy  breath 
Thrills  the  world  untouched  of  death. 
Thy  dear  doctrine  showeth  me 
Here,  God's  loved  humanity 

Whose  kingdom  comes. 


34  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

The  summer  was  spent  in  France;  in  November  they 
sailed  for  Egypt. 

"November  27,  Egypt.  Land  early  this  morning  — 
a  long  flat  strip  at  first  visible.  Then  Arabs  in  a  boat 
came  on  board.  Then  began  a  scene  of  unparalleled 
confusion,  in  the  midst  of  which  Cook's  Arabian  agent 
found  me  and  got  my  baggage  —  helping  us  all  through 
quietly,  and  with  great  saving  of  trouble.  ...  A  drive 
to  see  Pompey's  Pillar  and  obelisk.  A  walk  through 
the  bazaar.  Heat  very  oppressive.  Delightful  drive 
in  the  afternoon  to  the  Antonayades  garden  and  villa. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Antonayades  was  most  hospitable,  gave  us 
great  bouquets,  and  a  basket  of  fruit." 

"Cairo.  Walked  out.  A  woman  swung  up  and  down 
in  a  box  is  brown- washing  the  wall  of  the  hotel.  She 
was  drawn  up  to  the  top,  quite  a  height,  and  gradually 
let  down.  Her  dress  was  a  dirty  blue  cotton  gown,  and 
under  that  a  breech-cloth  of  dirty  sackcloth.  We 
were  to  have  had  an  audience  from  the  third  Princess  * 
this  afternoon,  and  were  nearly  dressed  for  the  palace 
when  we  were  informed  that  the  reception  would  take 
place  to-morrow,  when  there  will  be  a  general  re- 
ception, it  being  the  first  day  of  Bairam.  Visit  on 
donkey-back  to  the  bazaars,  and  gallop;  sunset  most 
beautiful." 

"Up  early,  and  all  agog  for  the  palace.  I  wore  my 
black  velvet  and  all  my  [few]  diamonds,  also  a  white 
bonnet  made  by  Julia  McAllister  2  and  trimmed  with 
her  lace  and  Miss  Irwin's  white  lilacs.   General  Stone 

1  The  favorite  wife  of  the  Khedive. 

2  A  cousin  who  was  of  the  party. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  35 

sent  his  carriage  with  sais  richly  dressed.  Reception 
was  at  Abdin  Palace  —  row  of  black  eunuchs  outside, 
very  grimy  in  aspect.  Only  women  inside  —  dresses 
of  bright  pink  and  yellow  satin,  of  orange  silk,  blue, 
lilac,  white  satin.  Lady  in  waiting  in  blue  silk  and 
diamonds.  In  the  hall  they  made  us  sit  down,  and 
brought  us  cigarettes  in  gilt  saucers.  We  took  a  whiff, 
then  went  to  the  lady  in  waiting  who  took  us  into  the 
room  where  the  three  princesses  were  waiting  to  re- 
ceive us.  They  shook  hands  with  us  and  made  us  sit 
down,  seating  themselves  also.  First  and  second  Prin- 
cesses on  a  sofa,  I  at  their  right  in  a  fauteuil,  on  my 
left  the  third  Princess.  First  in  white  brocaded  satin, 
pattern  very  bright,  pink  flowers  with  green  leaves. 
Second  wore  a  Worth  dress  of  corn  brocade,  trimmed 
with  claret  velvet;  third  in  blue  silk.  All  in  stupendous 
diamonds.  Chibouks  brought  which  reached  to  the 
floor.  We  smoke,  I  poorly,  —  mine  was  badly  lighted, 
—  an  attendant  in  satin  brought  a  fresh  coal  and  then 
the  third  Princess  told  me  it  was  all  right.  Coffee  in 
porcelain  cups,  the  stands  all  studded  with  diamonds. 
Conversation  rather  awkward.  Carried  on  by  myself 
and  the  third  Princess,  who  interpreted  to  the  others. 
Where  should  we  go  from  Cairo?  Up  the  Nile,  in  Jan- 
uary to  Constantinople." 

"Achmed  took  me  to  see  the  women  dance,  in  a 
house  where  a  wedding  is  soon  to  take  place.  Dancing 
done  by  a  one-eyed  woman  in  purple  and  gold  bro- 
cade —  house  large,  but  grimy  with  dirt  and  neglect. 
Men  all  in  one  room,  women  in  another  —  several  of 
them  one-eyed,  the  singer  blind  —  only  instruments 


36  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

the  earthenware  drum  and  castanets  worn  like  rings 
on  the  upper  joints  of  the  fingers.  Arab  cafe  —  the 
story-teller,  the  one-stringed  violin.  .  .  ." 

"To  the  ball  at  the  Abdin  Palace.  The  girls  looked 
charmingly.  Maud  danced  all  the  night.  The  Khedive * 
made  me  quite  a  speech.  He  is  a  short,  thickset  man, 
looking  about  fifty,  with  grizzled  hair  and  beard.  He 
wore  a  fez,  Frank  dress,  and  a  star  on  his  breast.  Tew- 
fik  Pasha,  his  son  and  heir,  was  similarly  dressed.  Con- 
sul Farman  presented  me  to  both  of  them.  The  suite 
of  rooms  is  very  handsome,  but  this  is  not  the  finest  of 
the  Khedive's  palaces.  Did  not  get  home  much  before 
four  in  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon  had  visited  the 
mosque  of  Sultan  Abdul  Hassan.  .  .  ." 

After  Cairo  came  a  trip  up  the  Nile,  with  all  its 
glories  and  discomforts.  Between  marvel  and  marvel 
she  read  Herodotus  and  Mariette  Bey  assiduously. 

"Christmas  Day.  Cool  wind.  Native  reis  of  the 
boat  has  a  brown  woollen  capote  over  his  blue  cotton 
gown,  the  hood  drawn  over  his  turban.  A  Christmas 
service.  Rev.  Mr.  Stovin,  English,  read  the  lessons  for 
the  day  and  the  litany.  We  sang  'Nearer,  my  God,  to 
Thee,'  and  'Hark,  the  herald  angels  sing.'  It  was  a 
good  little  time.  My  thoughts  flew  back  to  Theodore 
Parker,  who  loved  this  [first]  hymn,  and  in  whose 
'meeting'  I  first  heard  it.  Upper  deck  dressed  with 
palms  —  waiters  in  their  best  clothes.  .  .  ." 

"To-day  visited  Assiout,  where  we  arrived  soon 
after  ten  in  the  morning.     Donkey-ride  delightful, 

1  Ismail  Pasha. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  37 

visit  to  the  bazaar.  Two  very  nice  youths  found  us 
out,  pupils  of  the  American  Mission.  One  of  these 
said,  'I  also  am  Christianity.'  Christian  pupils  more 
than  one  hundred.  Several  Moslem  pupils  have  em- 
braced Christianity.  .  .  .  This  morning  had  a  very 
sober  season,  lying  awake  before  dawn,  and  thinking 
over  this  extravagant  journey,  which  threatens  to 
cause  me  serious  embarrassment." 

And  again :  — 

"The  last  day  of  a  year  in  which  I  have  enjoyed 
many  things,  wonderful  new  sights  and  impressions, 
new  friends.  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  much  useful 
work,  but  hope  to  do  better  work  hereafter  for  what 
this  year  has  shown  me.  Still,  I  have  spoken  four  times 
in  public,  each  time  with  labor  and  preparation  —  and 
have  advocated  the  causes  of  woman's  education,  equal 
rights  and  equal  laws  for  men  and  women.  My  heart 
greatly  regrets  that  I  have  not  done  better,  during  these 
twelve  months.   Must  always  hope  for  the  new  year." 

The  record  of  the  new  year  (1879)  begins  with  the 
usual  aspirations :  — 

"May  every  minute  of  this  year  be  improved  by 
me!  This  is  too  much  to  hope,  but  not  too  much  to 
pray  for.  And  I  determine  this  year  to  pass  no  day 
without  actual  prayer,  the  want  of  which  I  have  felt 
during  the  year  just  past.  Busy  all  day,  writing,  wash- 
ing handkerchiefs,  and  reading  Herodotus." 

On  January  2,  she  "visited  Blind  School  with  Gen- 
eral Stone  —  Osny  ErTendi,  Principal.  Many  trades 
and  handicrafts  —  straw  matting,  boys  —  boys  and 
girls  weaving  at  hand  loom  —  girls  spinning  wool  and 


38  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

flax,  crochet  and  knitting  —  a  lesson  in  geography. 
Turning  lathe  —  bought  a  cup  of  rhinoceros  horn." 

On  January  4  she  is  "sad  to  leave  Egypt  —  dear 
beautiful  country!" 

"Jerusalem,  January  5.  I  write  in  view  of  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  which  glows  in  the  softest  sunset 
light,  the  pale  moon  showing  high  in  the  sky.  Christ 
has  been  here  —  here  —  has  looked  with  his  bodily 
eyes  on  this  fair  prospect.  The  thought  ought  to  be 
overpowering  —  is  inconceivable." 

"January  9.  In  the  saddle  by  half  past  eight  in  the 
morning.  Rode  two  hours,  to  Bethlehem.  Convent  — 
Catholic.  Children  at  the  school.  Boy  with  a  fine  head, 
Abib.  In  the  afternoon  mounted  again  and  rode  in 
sight  of  the  Dead  Sea.  Mountains  inexpressibly  des- 
olate and  grand.  Route  very  rough,  and  in  some  places 
rather  dangerous.  .  .  .  Grotto  of  the  Nativity  —  place 
of  the  birth  —  manger  where  the  little  Christ  was  laid. 
Tomb  of  St.  Jerome.  Tombs  of  two  ladies  who  were 
friends  of  the  Saint.  Later  the  plains  of  Boaz,  which 
also  [is]  that  where  the  shepherds  heard  the  angels. 
Encamped  at  Marsaba.  Greek  convent  near  by  re- 
ceives men  only.  An  old  monk  brought  some  of  the 
handiwork  of  the  brethren  for  sale.  I  bought  a  stamp 
for  flat  cakes,  curiously  cut  in  wood.  We  dined  luxuri- 
ously, having  a  saloon  tent  and  an  excellent  cook.  .  .  . 
Good  beds,  but  I  lay  awake  a  good  deal  with  visions  of 
death  from  the  morrow's  ride." 

"January  10.  [In  camp  in  the  desert  near  Jericho.] 
'Shoo-fly'  *  waked  us  at  half  past  five  banging  on  a 

1  A  negro  attendant. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  39 

tin  pan  and  singing  'Shoo-fly.'  We  rose  at  once  and 
I  felt  my  terrors  subside.  Felt  that  only  prayer  and 
trust  in  God  could  carry  me  through.  We  were  in  the 
saddle  by  seven  o'clock  and  began  our  perilous  crossing 
of  the  hills  which  lead  to  the  Dead  Sea.  Scenery  in- 
expressibly grand  and  desolate.  Some  frightful  bits  of 
way  —  narrow  bridle  paths  up  and  down  very  steep 
places,  in  one  place  a  very  narrow  ridge  to  cross,  with 
precipices  on  either  side.  I  prayed  constantly  and  so 
felt  uplifted  from  the  abjectness  of  animal  fear.  After 
a  while  we  began  to  have  glimpses  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
which  is  beautifully  situated,  shut  in  by  high  hills, 
quite  blue  in  color.  After  much  mental  suffering  and 
bodily  fatigue  on  my  part  we  arrived  at  the  shores  of 
the  sea.  Here  we  rested  for  half  an  hour,  and  I  lay 
stretched  on  the  sands  which  were  very  clean  and 
warm!  Remounted  and  rode  to  Jordan.  Here,  I  had 
to  be  assisted  by  two  men  [they  lifted  her  bodily  out 
of  the  saddle  and  laid  her  on  the  ground]  and  lay  on 
my  shawl,  eating  my  luncheon  in  this  attitude.  Fell 
asleep  here.  Could  not  stop  long  enough  to  touch  the 
water.  We  rested  in  the  shade  of  a  clump  of  bushes, 
near  the  place  where  the  baptism  of  Christ  is  supposed 
to  have  taken  place.  Our  cans  were  rilled  with  water 
from  this  sacred  stream,  and  I  picked  up  a  little  bit  of 
hollow  reed,  the  only  souvenir  I  could  find.  Remounted 
and  rode  to  Jericho.  Near  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  we 
met  a  storm  of  locusts,  four-winged  creatures  which 
annoyed  our  horses  and  flew  in  our  faces.  John  the 
Baptist  probably  ate  such  creatures.  Afternoon  ride 
much  better  as  to  safety,  but  very  fatiguing.  Reached 


40  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Jericho  just  after  sunset,  a  beautiful  camping-ground. 
After  dinner,  a  Bedouin  dance,  very  strange  and 
fierce.  Men  and  women  stood  in  a  semicircle,  lighted 
by  a  fire  of  dry  thorns.  They  clapped  their  hands  and 
sang,  or  rather  murmured,  in  a  rhythm  which  changed 
from  time  to  time.  A  chief  danced  before  them,  very 
gracefully,  threatening  them  with  his  sword,  with 
which  he  played  very  skilfully.  They  sometimes  went 
on  their  knees  as  if  imploring  him  to  spare  them.  He 
came  twice  to  our  tent  and  waved  the  sword  close  to 
our  heads,  saying, '  Taih  backsheesh.'  The  dance  was 
like  an  Indian  war-dance  —  the  chief  made  a  noise 
just  like  the  war-whoop  of  our  Indians.  The  dance 
lasted  half  an  hour.  The  chief  got  his  backsheesh  and 
the  whole  troop  departed.  Lay  down  and  rested  in 
peace,  knowing  that  the  dangerous  part  of  our  journey 
was  over." 

"In  Camp  in  the  Desert.  January  11.  In  the  saddle 
by  half  past  seven.  Rode  round  the  site  of  ancient 
Jericho,  of  which  nothing  remains  but  some  portions  of 
the  king's  highway.  Ruins  of  a  caravanserai,  which 
is  said  to  be  the  inn  where  the  good  Samaritan  lodged 
his  patient.  Stopped  for  rest  and  luncheon,  at  Beth  — 
and  proceeded  to  Bethany,  where  we  visited  the  tomb 
of  Lazarus.  I  did  not  go  in  —  then  rode  round  the 
Mount  of  Olives  and  round  the  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
arriving  at  half  past  three  in  the  afternoon.  I  became 
very  stiff  in  my  knees,  could  hardly  be  mounted  on  my 
horse,  and  suffered  much  pain  from  my  knee  and  abra- 
sions of  the  skin  caused  by  the  saddle.  Did  not  get 
down  at  the  tomb  of  Lazarus  because  I  could  not  have 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  41 

descended  the  steps  which  led  to  it,  and  could  not  have 
got  on  my  horse  again.  When  we  reached  our  hotel, 
I  could  not  step  without  help,  and  my  strength  was 
quite  exhausted.  I  say  to  all  tourists,  avoid  Cook's 
dreadful  hurry,  and  to  all  women,  avoid  Marsaba! 
This  last  day,  we  often  met  little  troops  of  Bedouins 
travelling  on  donkeys  —  sometimes  carrying  with 
them  their  cattle  and  household  goods.  I  saw  a  beau- 
tiful white  and  black  lamb  carried  on  a  donkey.  Met 
three  Bedouin  horsemen  with  long  spears.  One  of 
these  stretched  his  spear  across  the  way  almost  touch- 
ing my  face,  for  a  joke." 

"Jerusalem.  Sunday,  January  12.  English  service. 
Communion,  interesting  here  where  the  rite  was  in- 
stituted. I  was  very  thankful  for  this  interesting 
opportunity." 

"January  15.  Mission  hospital  and  schools  in  the 
morning.  Also  Saladin's  horse.  Wailing  place  of  the 
Jews  and  some  ancient  synagogues.  In  the  afternoon 
walked  to  Gethsemane  and  ascended  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  In  the  first-named  place,  sang  one  verse  of  our 
hymn,  'Go  to  dark  Gethsemane.'  Got  some  flowers 
and  olive  leaves.  .  .  ." 

After  Jerusalem  came  Jaffa,  where  she  delivered  an 
address  to  a  "circle"  at  a  private  house.   She  says:  — 

"In  Jaffa  of  the  Crusaders,  Joppa  of  Peter  and  Paul, 
I  find  an  American  Mission  School,  kept  by  a  worthy 
lady  from  Rhode  Island.  Prominent  among  its  points 
of  discipline  is  the  clean-washed  face,  which  is  so  en- 
throned in  the  prejudices  of  Western  civilization.  One 


42  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

of  her  scholars,  a  youth  of  unusual  intelligence,  finding 
himself  clean,  observes  himself  to  be  in  strong  con- 
trast with  his  mother's  hovel,  in  which  filth  is  just  kept 
clear  of  fever  point.  'Why  this  dirt?'  quoth  he;  'that 
which  has  made  me  clean  will  cleanse  this  also.'  So 
without  more  ado,  the  process  of  scrubbing  is  applied 
to  the  floor,  without  regard  to  the  danger  of  so  great 
a  novelty.  This  simple  fact  has  its  own  significance, 
for  if  the  innovation  of  soap  and  water  can  find  its 
way  to  a  Jaffa  hut,  where  can  the  ancient,  respectable, 
conservative  dirt-devil  feel  himself  secure?" 

Apropos  of  mission  work  (in  which  she  was  a  firm 
believer),  she  loved  to  tell  how  one  day  in  Jerusalem 
she  was  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  beggars,  unwashed 
and  unsavory,  clamoring  for  money,  till  she  was  well- 
nigh  bewildered.  Suddenly  there  appeared  a  beautiful 
youth  in  spotless  white,  who  scattered  the  mob,  took 
her  horse's  bridle,  and  in  good  English  offered  to  lead 
her  to  her  hotel.  It  was  as  if  an  angel  had  stepped  into 
the  narrow  street. 

"Who  are  you,  dear  youth?"  she  cried. 

"I  am  a  Christian!"  was  the  reply. 

In  parting  she  says,  "Farewell,  Holy  Land! 
Thank  God  that  I  have  seen  and  felt  it!  All  good  come 
to  it!" 

From  Palestine  the  way  led  to  Cyprus  ("the  town 
very  muddy  and  bare  of  all  interest")  and  Smyrna, 
thence  to  Constantinople.  Here  she  visited  Robert 
College  with  great  delight.  Returning,  she  saw  the 
"Sultan  going  to  Friday's  prayers.    A  melancholy, 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  43 

frightened-looking    man,    pale,    with    a    large,  face- 
absorbing  nose.  ..." 

"February  3.  Early  at  Piraeus.  Kalopothakis  1  met 
us  there,  coming  on  board.  .  .  .  To  Athens  by  carriage. 
Acropolis  as  beautiful  as  ever.  It  looks  small  after  the 
Egyptian  temples,  and  of  course  more  modern  —  still 
very  impressive.  ..." 

Athens,  with  its  welcoming  faces  of  friends,  seemed 
almost  homelike  after  the  Eastern  journeyings.  The 
Journal  tells  of  sight-seeing  for  the  benefit  of  the 
younger  traveller,  and  of  other  things  beside. 

"Called  on  the  Grande  Maitresse  at  the  Palace  in 
order  to  have  cards  for  the  ball.  Saw  the  Schliemann 
relics  from  Mycenae,  and  the  wonderful  marbles  gath- 
ered in  the  Museum.  Have  been  writing  something 
about  these.  To  ball  at  the  palace  in  my  usual  sober 
rig,  black  velvet  and  so  forth.  Queen  very  gracious  to 
us.  .  .  .  Home  by  three  in  the  morning." 

"February  12.  At  ten  in  the  morning  came  a  com- 
mittee of  Cretan  officers  of  the  late  insurrection,  pre- 
senting a  letter  through  Mr.  Rainieri,  himself  a  Cretan, 
expressing  the  gratitude  of  the  Cretans  to  dear  Papa 
for  his  efforts  in  their  behalf.  .  .  .  Mr.  Rainieri  made 
a  suitable  address  in  French  —  to  which  I  replied  in 
the  same  tongue.  Coffee  and  cordial  were  served.  The 
occasion  was  of  great  interest.  ...  In  the  afternoon 
spoke  at  Mrs.  Felton's  of  the  Advancement  of  Women 
as  promoted  by  association.  An  American  dinner  of 
perhaps  forty,  nearly  all  women,  Greek,  but  under- 

1  A  Greek  Protestant  minister. 


44  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

standing  English.    A  good  occasion.    To  party  at 
Madame  Schliemann's." 

"February  15.  Miserable  with  a  cold.  A  confused  day 
in  which  nothing  seemed  to  go  right.  Kept  losing  sight 
of  papers  and  other  things.  Felt  as  if  God  could  not 
have  made  so  bad  a  day  —  my  day  after  all;  I  made  it." 

"February  18.  To  ball  at  the  Palace.  King  took 
Maud  out  in  the  German." 

"February  21.  The  day  for  eating  the  roast  lamb 
with  the  Cretan  chiefs.  Went  down  to  the  Piraeus 
warmly  wrapped  up.  .  .  .  Occasion  most  interesting. 
Much  speech-making  and  toasting.  I  mentioned 
Felton." 

"February  22.  Dreadful  day  of  departure.  Packed 
steadily  but  with  constant  interruptions.  The  Cretans 
called  upon  me  to  present  their  photographs  and  take 
leave.  Tried  a  poem,  failed.  Had  black  coffee  —  tried 
another  —  succeeded.  .  .  ." 

"February  23.  Sir  Henry  Layard,  late  English  min- 
ister to  the  Porte,  is  on  board.  Talked  Greek  at  dinner 
—  beautiful  evening  —  night  as  rough  as  it  could  well 
be.  Little  sleep  for  any  of  us.  Glad  to  see  that  Lord 
Hartington  has  spoken  in  favor  of  the  Greeks,  censur- 
ing the  English  Government." 

"February  26.  .  .  .  Sir  Henry  Layard  and  I  tete-a- 
tete  on  deck,  looking  at  the  prospect  —  he  coveting  it, 
no  doubt,  for  his  rapacious  country,  I  coveting  it  for 
liberty  and  true  civilization." 

The  spring  was  spent  in  Italy.  In  May  they  came 
to  London. 


A  ROMAN  WINTER  45 

"May  29.  Met  Mr.  William  Speare.  ...  He  told 
me  of  his  son's  death,  and  of  that  of  William  Lloyd 
Garrison.  Gallant  old  man,  unique  and  enviable  in 
reputation  and  character.  Who,  oh!  who  can  take  his 
place?  'Show  us  the  Father.'" 

The  last  weeks  of  the  London  visit  were  again  too 
full  for  any  adequate  account  of  them  to  find  its  way 
into  her  letters  or  journals.  She  visited  London  once 
more  in  later  years,  but  this  was  her  last  long  stay.  She 
never  forgot  the  friends  she  made  there,  and  it  was 
one  of  the  many  day-dreams  she  enjoyed  that  she 
should  return  for  another  London  season.  Sometimes 
after  reading  the  account  of  the  gay  doings  chronicled 
in  the  London  "World,"  which  Edmund  Yates  sent  her 
as  long  as  he  lived,  she  would  cry  out,  "O!  for  a  whiff 
of  London!"  or,  "My  dear,  we  must  have  another 
London  season  before  I  die!" 


CHAPTER  III 

NEWPORT 

1879-1882;  aet.  60-63 

A  THOUGHT  FOR  WASHING  DAY 

The  clothes-line  is  a  Rosary 

Of  household  help  and  care; 
Each  little  saint  the  Mother  loves 

Is  represented  there. 

And  when  across  her  garden  plot 
She  walks,  with  thoughtful  heed, 

I  should  not  wonder  if  she  told 
Each  garment  for  a  bead. 

A  stranger  passing,  I  salute 

The  Household  in  its  wear, 
And  smile  to  think  how  near  of  kin 

Are  love  and  toil  and  prayer. 

J.  W.  H. 

July,  1879,  found  our  mother  at  home  at  Oak  Glen, 
unpacking  trunks  and  reading  a  book  on  the  Talmud. 
She  had  met  the  three  married  daughters  in  Boston 
("We  talked  incessantly  for  seven  hours,"  says  the 
Journal),  and  Florence  and  Maud  accompanied  her  to 
Newport,  where  Florence  had  established  her  summer 
nursery.  There  were  three  Hall  grandchildren  now,  and 
they  became  an  important  factor  in  the  life  at  Oak 
Glen.  All  through  the  records  of  these  summer  days 
runs  the  patter  of  children's  feet. 

She  kept  only  one  corner  of  the  house  for  her  pri- 
vate use;  a  room  with  the  north  light  which  she  then 
thought  essential.  This  was  at  once  bedroom  and 
workroom :  she  never  had  a  separate  study  or  library. 


HALL   FOUR   GENERATIONS 

MRS.    HOWE,   MRS.   HALL,   HENRY  MARION   HALL, 

JULIA  WARD  HOWE  HALL 

From  a  photograph,  1903 


NEWPORT  47 

Here,  as  in  Green  Peace  days,  she  worked  quietly  and 
steadily.  Children  and  grandchildren  might  fill  the 
house,  might  have  everything  it  contained :  she  asked 
only  for  her  "precious  time."  When  she  could  not 
have  an  hour  she  took  half  an  hour,  a  quarter,  ten 
minutes.  No  fragment  of  time  was  too  small  for  her 
to  save,  to  invest  in  study  or  in  work;  and  as  her 
mind  concentrated  instantly  on  the  subject  in  hand, 
no  such  fragment  was  wasted.  The  rule  of  mind  over 
body  was  relentless :  sick  or  well,  she  must  finish  her 
stint  before  the  day  closed. 

This  summer  of  1879  was  a  happy  one.  After  the 
feverish  months  of  travel  and  pleasure,  her  delight  in 
the  soft  Newport  climate  was  deeper  than  ever.  She 
always  felt  the  change  from  the  air  of  the  mainland 
to  that  of  the  island,  and  never  crossed  the  bridge  from 
Tiverton  to  Bristol  Ferry  without  an  exclamation  of 
pleasure.  She  used  to  say  that  the  soft,  cool  air  of  New- 
port smoothed  out  the  tired,  tangled  nerves  "like  a 
silver  comb  " ! 

"July  29.  To  my  Club,  where,  better  than  any 
ovation,  an  affectionate  greeting  awaited  me.  .  .  . 
Thucydides  is  very  difficult." 

This  was  the  Town  and  Country  Club,  for  some 
years  a  great  interest  to  her.  In  her  "Reminiscences" 
she  tells  how  in  a  summer  of  the  late  sixties  or  early 
seventies,  when  Bret  Harte  and  Dr.  J.  G.  Holland, 
Professors  Lane  and  Goodwin  of  Harvard  were  spend- 
ing the  season  at  Newport:  "A  little  band  of  us  com- 
bined to  improve  the  beautiful  summer  season  by 


48  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

picnics,  sailing  parties,  and  household  soirees,  in  all  of 
which  these  brilliant  literary  lights  took  part.  Helen 
Hunt  and  Kate  Field  were  often  of  our  company,  and 
Colonel  Higginson  was  always  with  us." 

Among  the  frolics  of  that  summer  was  the  mock 
Commencement,  arranged  by  her  and  Professor  Lane. 

"I  acted  as  President,  Colonel  Higginson  as  my 
aide;  we  both  marched  up  the  aisle  in  Oxford  caps  and 
gowns.  I  opened  the  proceedings  by  an  address  in 
Latin,  Greek,  and  English;  and  when  I  turned  to  Colo- 
nel Higginson  and  called  him  'fill  mihi  dilectissime* 
he  wickedly  replied  with  three  bows  of  such  comic 
gravity  that  I  almost  gave  way  to  unbecoming  laugh- 
ter. Not  long  before  this  he  had  published  a  paper  on 
the  Greek  goddesses.  I  therefore  assigned  as  his  theme 
the  problem,  'How  to  sacrifice  an  Irish  bull  to  a  Greek 
goddess.'  Colonel  George  Waring,  the  well-known 
engineer,  being  at  that  time  in  charge  of  a  valuable 
farm  in  the  neighborhood,  was  invited  to  discuss 
'Social  small  potatoes:  how  to  enlarge  their  eyes.'  An 
essay  on  rhinoscopy  was  given  by  Fanny  Fern,  the 
which  I,  chalk  in  hand,  illustrated  on  the  blackboard 
by  the  following  equation :  — 

"  Nose+nose+nose  =proboscis. 
Nose— nose— nose = snub. 

"A  class  was  called  upon  for  recitations  from  Mother 
Goose  in  seven  different  languages.  At  the  head  of  this 
Professor  Goodwin  honored  us  with  a  Greek  version 
of  the  '  Man  in  the  Moon.'  A  recent  Harvard  graduate, 


NEWPORT  49 

Dr.  Gorham  Bacon,  recited  the  following,  also  of  her 

composition :  — 

"'Heu  iterum  didulum, 
Felis  cum  fidulum, 
Vacca  transiluit  lunam, 
Caniculus  ridet, 
Quum  tale  videt, 
Et  dish  ambulavit  cum  spoonam.' 

"The  question  being  asked  whether  this  last  line  was 
in  strict  accordance  with  grammar,  the  scholar  gave 
the  following  rule :  '  The  conditions  of  grammar  should 
always  give  way  to  the  exigencies  of  rhyme.' 

"The  delicious  fooling  of  that  unique  summer  was 
never  repeated.  Out  of  it  came,  however,  the  more 
serious  and  permanent  association  known  as  the  Town 
and  Country  Club  of  Newport.  I  felt  the  need  of  up- 
holding the  higher  social  ideals  and  of  not  leaving  true 
culture  unrepresented,  even  in  a  summer  watering- 
place." 

With  the  help  and  advice  of  Professor  and  Mrs.  Wil- 
liam B.  Rogers,  Colonel  Higginson  and  Mr.  Samuel 
Powell,  a  number  of  friends  were  called  together  in  the 
early  summer  of  1874  and  she  laid  before  them  the  plan 
of  the  proposed  club.  After  speaking  of  the  growing 
predominance  of  the  gay  and  fashionable  element  in 
Newport  society,  she  said :  — 

"But  some  things  can  be  done  as  well  as  others. 
Newport  .  .  .  has  also  treasures  which  are  still  unex- 
plored. .  .  . 

"The  milliner  and  the  mantua-maker  bring  here 
their  costly  goods  and  tempt  the  eye  with  forms  and 
colors.    But  the  great  artist,  Nature,  has  here  mer- 


50  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

chandise  far  more  precious,  whose  value  and  beauty 
are  understood  by  few  of  us.  I  remember  once  meet- 
ing a  philosopher  in  a  jeweller's  shop.  The  master  of 
the  establishment  exhibited  to  us  his  choicest  wares, 
among  others  a  costly  diamond  ornament.  The  philos- 
opher [we  think  it  was  Emerson]  said,  'A  violet  is  more 
beautiful.'  I  cannot  forget  the  disgust  expressed  in  the 
jeweller's  face  at  this  remark." 

She  then  outlined  the  course  laid  out  by  the  "Friends 
in  Council,"  lectures  on  astronomy,  botany,  natural 
history,  all  by  eminent  persons.  They  would  not  expect 
the  Club  to  meet  them  on  their  own  ground.  They 
would  come  to  that  of  their  hearers,  and  would  un- 
fold to  them  what  they  were  able  to  understand. 

Accordingly,  Weir  Mitchell  discoursed  to  them  on 
the  Poison  of  Serpents,  John  La  Farge  on  the  South 
Sea  Islands,  Alexander  Agassiz  on  Deep-Sea  Dredg- 
ing and  the  Panama  Canal;  while  Mark  Twain  and 
"Hans  Breitmann"  made  merry,  each  in  his  own 
inimitable  fashion. 

The  Town  and  Country  Club  had  a  long  and  happy 
career.  No  matter  what  heavy  work  she  might  have 
on  hand  for  the  summer,  no  sooner  arrived  at  Newport 
than  our  mother  called  together  her  Governing  Com- 
mittee and  planned  out  the  season's  meetings. 

It  may  have  been  for  this  Club  that  she  wrote  her 
"Parlor  Macbeth,"  an  extravaganza  in  which  she  ap- 
peared as  "the  impersonation  of  the  whole  Macbeth 
family." 

In  the  prologue  she  says :  — 
1    "As  it  is  often  said  and  supposed  that  a  woman  is  at 


NEWPORT  51 

the  bottom  of  all  the  mischief  that  is  done  under  the 
sun,  I  appear  and  say  that  I  am  she,  that  woman,  the 
female  fate  of  the  Macbeth  family." 

In  the  monologue  that  follows,  Lady  Macbeth 
fairly  lives  before  the  audience,  and  in  amazing  trav- 
esty relates  the  course  of  the  drama. 

She  thus  describes  the  visit  of  the  weird  sisters  (the 
three  Misses  Macbeth)  who  have  been  asked  to  con- 
tribute some  of  "their  excellent  hell-broth  and  devilled 
articles"  for  her  party. 

"At  12  m.,  a  rushing  and  bustling  was  heard,  and 
down  the  kitchen  chimney  tumbled  the  three  weird 
sisters,  finding  everything  ready  for  their  midnight 
operations.  .  .  .  '  That  hussy  of  a  Macbeth's  wife  leaves 
us  nothing  to  work  with,'  cried  one.  '  She  makes  double 
trouble  for  us.'  *  Double  trouble,  double  trouble,' 
they  all  cried  and  groaned  in  chorus,  and  presently  fell 
into  a  sort  of  trilogy  of  mingled  prose  and  verse  which 
was  enough  to  drive  one  mad. 

"'Where  hast  thou  been? 

Sticking  pigs. 
And  where  hast  thou? 

Why,  curling  wigs 
Fit  for  a  shake  in  German  jigs 
And  hoo!  carew!  carew!' 


"'We  must  have  Hecate  now,  can't  do  without  her. 
Throw  the  beans  over  the  broomstick  and  say  boo!' 
And  lo,  Hecate  comes,  much  like  the  others,  only 
rather  more  so.  .  .  . 

"Now  they  began  to  work  in  good  earnest.  And 
they  had  brought  with  them  whole  bottles  of  sun- 


52  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ophon,  and  sozodont,  and  rypophagon,  and  hyperbolism 
and  consternaculum,  and  a  few  others.  And  in  the 
whole  went.  And  one  stirred  the  great  pot  over  the 
fire,  while  the  others  danced  around  and  sang  — 

"'Black  pepper  and  red, 
White  pepper  and  grey, 
Tingle,  tingle,  tingle,  tingle, 
Till  it  smarts  all  day.' 

"'Here's  dyspepsia!  Here's  your  racking  headache 
of  a  morning.  Here 's  podagra,  and  jaundice,  and  a  few 
fits.  And  now  it 's  done  to  a  turn,  and  the  weird  sisters 
have  done  what  they  could  for  the  family.' 

"A  rumbling  and  tumbling  and  foaming  was  now 
heard  in  the  chimney  —  the  bricks  opened,  and  He-cat 
and  She-cat  and  all  the  rest  of  them  went  up.  And  I 
knew  that  my  supper  would  be  first-rate." 

The  time  came  when  some  of  the  other  officers  of 
the  Town  and  Country  Club  felt  unable  to  keep  the 
pace  set  by  her.  She  would  still  press  forward,  but 
they  hung  back,  feeling  the  burden  of  the  advancing 
years  which  sat  so  lightly  on  her  shoulders.  The  Club 
was  disbanded;  its  fund  of  one  thousand  dollars,  so 
honorably  earned,  was  given  to  the  Redwood  Library, 
one  of  the  old  institutions  of  Newport. 

The  Town  and  Country  Club  was  succeeded  by  the 
Papeterie,  a  smaller  club  of  ladies  only,  more  intimate 
in  its  character.  The  exchange  of  "paper  novels" 
furnished  its  name  and  its  raisori  d'etre.  The  members 
were  expected  to  describe  the  books  taken  home  from 
the  previous  meeting.    "What  have  you  to  tell  us  of 


NEWPORT  53 

the  novel  you  have  been  reading?  "  the  president  would 

demand.  Then  followed  a  report,  serious  or  comic,  as 

the  character  of  the  volume  or  the  mood  of  the  meeting 

suggested.  A  series  of  abbreviated  criticisms  was  made 

and  a  glossary  prepared :  for  example,  — 

"B.  P.  —  By  the  pound. 
M.  A.  S.  —  May  amuse  somebody.     . 
P.  B.  —  Pot-boiler. 
F.  W.  B.  —  For  waste-basket. 
U.  I.  —  Uplifting  influence. 
W.  D.  —  Wholly  delightful. 
U.  T.  —  Utter  trash." 

The  officers  consisted  of  the  Glossarian,  the  Penol- 
ogist, whose  duty  it  was  to  invent  penalties  for  delin- 
quents, the  Cor.  Sec.  and  the  Rec.  Sec.  (corresponding 
and  recording  secretaries)  and  the  Archivist,  who  had 
charge  of  the  archives.  During  its  early  years  a  novel 
was  written  by  the  Club,  each  member  writing  one 
chapter.  It  still  exists,  and  part  of  the  initiation  of  a 
new  member  consists  in  reading  the  manuscript.  The 
"delicious  fooling"  that  marked  the  first  year  of  the 
Town  and  Country  Club's  existence  was  the  animating 
spirit  of  the  Papeterie.  A  friend  christened  it  "Mrs. 
Howe's  Vaudeville."  Merrymaking  was  her  safety- 
valve.  Brain  fag  and  nervous  prostration  were  practi- 
cally unknown  to  her.  When  she  had  worked  to  the 
point  of  exhaustion,  she  turned  to  play.  Fun  and  frolic 
went  along  with  labor  and  prayer;  the  power  of  com- 
bining these  kept  her  steadily  at  her  task  till  the  end 
of  her  life.  The  last  time  she  left  her  house,  six  days 
before  her  death,  it  was  to  preside  at  the  Papeterie, 
where  she  was  as  usual  the  life  of  the  meeting!   The 


54  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Club  still  lives,  and,  like  the  New  England  Woman's 
Club,  seems  still  pervaded  by  her  spirit. 

The  Clubs  did  not  have  all  the  fun.  The  Newport 
"  Evening  Express  "  of  September  2,  1881,  says :  "Mrs. 
Julia  Ward  Howe  has  astonished  Newport  by  her  act- 
ing in  'False  Colors.'  But  she  always  was  a  surprising 
woman." 

Another  newspaper  says:  "The  interest  of  the  New- 
port world  has  been  divided  this  week  between  the 
amateur  theatricals  at  the  Casino  and  the  lawn  tennis 
tournament.  Two  representations  of  the  comedy  of 
'  False  Colors '  were  given  on  Tuesday  and  Wednesday 
evenings.  .  .  .  The  stars  were  undoubtedly  Mrs.  Julia 
Ward  Howe  and  Mr.  Peter  Marie,  who  brought  down 
the  house  by  their  brightness  and  originality.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Peter  Marie  gave  a  supper  on  the  last  night  of  the  per- 
formance, during  which  he  proposed  the  health  of  Mrs. 
Julia  Ward  Howe  and  the  thanks  of  the  company  for 
her  valuable  assistance.  Mrs.  Howe's  reply  was  very 
bright  and  apt,  and  her  playful  warnings  of  the  dangers 
of  sailing  under  false  colors  were  fully  appreciated." 

It  is  remembered  that  of  all  the  gay  company  she 
was  the  only  one  who  was  letter-perfect  in  her  part. 

To  return  to  1879.  She  preached  many  times  this 
summer  in  and  around  Newport. 

"  Sunday,  September  28.  Hard  at  work.  Could  not 
look  at  my  sermon  until  this  day.  Corrected  my  reply 
to  Parkman.1  Had  a  very  large  audience  for  the  place 
—  all  seats  full  and  benches  put  in." 

1  Francis  Parkman  had  written  an  article  opposing  woman  suffrage. 


NEWPORT  55 

"My  sermon  at  the  Unitarian  Church  in  Newport. 
A  most  unexpected  crowd  to  hear  me." 

"September  29.  Busy  with  preparing  the  dialogue 
in  'Alice  in  Wonderland'  for  the  Town  and  Country 
Club  occasion.  .  .  ." 

Many  entries  begin  with  "hard  at  work,"  or  "very 
busy  all  day." 

This  summer  was  made  delightful  by  a  visit  from 
her  sister  Louisa,  with  her  husband  *  and  daughter. 
Music  formed  a  large  part  of  the  summer's  pleasure. 
The  Journal  tells  of  a  visit  from  Timothee  Adamowski 
which  was  greatly  enjoyed. 

"October  11.  Much  delightful  music.  Adamowski 
has  made  a  pleasant  impression  upon  all  of  us." 

"October  12,  Sunday.  Sorry  to  say  we  made  music  all 
day.  Looked  hard  for  Uncle  Sam,  who  came  not." 

"October  13.  Our  delightful  matinee.  Adamowski 
and  Daisy  played  finely,  he  making  a  great  sensation. 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  accompanying  Adamowski  in  a 
Nocturne  of  Chopin's  for  violin  and  piano.  All  went 
well.  Our  pleasure  and  fatigue  were  both  great.  The 
house  looked  charming." 

In  the  autumn  came  a  lecture  tour,  designed  to  re- 
coup the  heavy  expenses  of  the  Eastern  trip.  Never 
skilful  in  matters  of  money-making,  this  tour  was 
undertaken  with  less  preparation  than  the  modern 
lecturer  could  well  imagine.    She  corresponded  with 

1  Luther  Terry,  an  American  painter  who  had  lived  long  in  Rome,  and 
had  been  a  close  friend  of  Thomas  Crawford.  He  survived  his  wife  by 
some  years. 


56  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

one  and  another  Unitarian  clergyman  and  arranged  her 
lectures  largely  through  them.  Though  she  did  not 
bring  back  so  much  money  as  many  less  popular 
speakers,  she  was,  after  all,  her  own  mistress,  and  was 
not  rushed  through  the  country  like  a  letter  by  ambi- 
tious managers. 

The  Journal  gives  some  glimpses  of  this  trip. 

"Twenty  minutes  to  dress,  sup,  and  get  to  the  hall. 
Swallowed  a  cup  of  tea  and  nibbled  a  biscuit  as  I 
dressed  myself." 

"Found  the  miserablest  railroad  hotel,  where  I 
waited  all  day  for  trunk,  in  distress!  .  .  .  Had  to  lec- 
ture without  either  dress  or  manuscript.  Mrs.  Blank 
hastily  arrayed  me  in  her  black  silk,  and  I  had  fortu- 
nately a  few  notes." 

She  never  forgot  this  lesson,  and  in  all  the  thirty- 
odd  years  of  speaking  and  lecturing  that  remained, 
made  it  an  invariable  rule  to  travel  with  her  lecture  and 
her  cap  and  laces  in  her  handbag.  As  she  grew  older, 
the  satchel  grew  lighter.  She  disliked  all  personal  serv- 
ice, and  always  wanted  to  carry  her  hand-luggage  her- 
self. The  light  palm-leaf  knapsack  she  brought  from 
Santo  Domingo  was  at  the  end  replaced  by  a  net,  the 
lightest  thing  she  could  find. 

The  Unitarian  Church  in  Newport  was  second  in  her 
heart  only  to  the  Church  of  the  Disciples.  The  Rev- 
erend Charles  T.  Brooks,  the  pastor,  was  her  dear 
friend.  In  the  spring  of  1880  a  Channing  memorial 
celebration  was  held  in  Newport,  for  which  she  wrote 
a  poem.   She  sat  on  the  platform  near  Mr.  Emerson, 


NEWPORT  57 

heard  Dr.  Bellows's  discourse  on  Charming,  "which 
was  exhaustive,  and  as  it  lasted  two  hours,  exhaust- 
ing." The  exercises,  W.  H.  Channing's  eulogium,  etc., 
etc.,  lasted  through  the  day  and  evening,  and  in  the 
intervals  between  addresses  she  was  "still  retouching " 
her  poem,  which  came  last  of  all.  "A  great  day ! "  says 
the  Journal. 

"July  23.  Very  busy  all  day.  Rainy  weather.  In  the 
evening  I  had  a  mock  meeting,  with  burlesque  papers, 
etc.  I  lectured  on  Ism-  Is-not-m,  on  Asm-spasm-plasm." 

"July  24-.  Working  hard,  as  usual.  Marionettes  at 
home  in  the  evening.  Laura  had  written  the  text.  Maud 
was  Julius  Caesar;  Flossy,  Cassius;  Daisy,  Brutus." 

"July  28.  Read  my  lecture  on  'Modern  Society'  in 
the  Hillside  Chapel  at  Concord.  .  .  .  The  comments  of 
Messrs.  Alcott  and  W.  H.  Channing  were  quite  enough 
to  turn  a  sober  head." 

"To  the  poorhouse  and  to  Jacob  Chase's  with  Joseph 
Coggeshall.  Old  Elsteth,  whom  I  remember  these  many 
years,  died  a  few  weeks  ago.  One  of  the  pauper  women 
who  has  been  there  a  long  time  told  me  that  Elsteth 
cried  out  that  she  was  going  to  Heaven,  and  that  she 
gave  her,  as  a  last  gift,  a  red  handkerchief.  Mrs.  Anna 
Brown,  whom  I  saw  last  year,  died  recently.  Her  rel- 
atives are  people  in  good  position  and  ought  to  have 
provided  for  her  in  her  declining  years.  They  came,  in 
force,  to  her  funeral  and  had  a  very  nice  coffin  for  her. 
Took  her  body  away  for  burial.  Such  meanness  needs 
no  comment. 

"Jacob  was  glad  to  see  me.  Asked  after  Maud  and 


58  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

doubted  whether  she  was  as  handsome  as  I  was  when 
he  first  saw  me  (thirty  or  more  years  ago).  His  wife 
said  to  me  in  those  days:  'Jacob  thinks  thee's  the  only 
good-looking  woman  in  these  parts.'  She  was  herself 
a  handsome  woman  and  a  very  sweet  one.  I  wish  I  had 
known  I  was  so  good-looking." 

Of  the  writing  of  letters  there  was  no  end.  Corre- 
spondence was  rather  a  burden  than  a  delight  to  her; 
yet,  when  all  the  "  duty  letters  "  were  written,  she 
loved  to  take  a  fresh  sheet  and  frolic  with  some  one 
of  her  absent  children.  Laura,  being  the  furthest  re- 
moved, received  perhaps  more  than  her  share  of  these 
letters;  yet,  as  will  appear  from  them,  she  never  had 
enough. 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  October  10,  1880. 

Dearest,  Dearest  L.  E.  R.,  — 

How  I  wonder  how  you  R!  Cause  of  silence  not 
hardness  of  heart,  but  the  given  necessity  of  scribbling 
for  dear  life,  to  finish  a  promised  paper  for  the  Woman's 
Congress,  sedebit  next  week.  I  in  Boston  Wed.,  Thurs., 
and  Fri.  —  day  being  understood.  Mowski  [Adam- 
owski]  left  us  yesterday  morning.  .  .  .  We  had  him 
here  a  fortnight,  and  enjoyed  his  visit  extremely.  At 
table,  between  the  courses,  he  played  on  every  instru- 
ment of  the  orchestra.  I  asked  once  for  the  bass  drum, 
which  he  imitated,  adding  thereunto  the  cymbals. 
We  had  a  lunch  party  last  week,  for  the  bride,  Maud 
Appleton,  and  "  invited  quite  fashionable,"  and  after 


NEWPORT  59 

all  she  did  n't  come.  "Sick  in  bed  with  diphtheria." 
May  by  some  be  considered  an  excuse,  but  then, 
it's  very  rude  to  be  sick,  and  it's  very  troublesome 
to  other  people.  (This  to  make  you  feel  badly  about 
your  own  shortcomings.)  We  had  a  little  dance, 
too,  on  Friday  evening.  An  omnibus  party  came  out 
and  a  few  others.  I  pounded  the  Lancers  and  some 
ancient  waltzes  and  polkas,  ending  with  the  Virginia 
reel,  in  which  last  I  thought  my  floor  would  give  way, 
the  young  men  stamped  so.  I  have  no  paper  left 
except  some  newspaper  wrappers,  so  can't  write  any 
more.  Got  up  and  found  this  scrap,  then  hunted  for 
my  pen,  which,  after  some  search,  I  found  in  my  mouth. 
This  is  what  it  is  to  be  lit'ry.  Oh,  my!  I  sometimes 
wish  I  was  n't!  .  .  . 

In  October,  while  visiting  Julia  at  the  Institution, 
she  missed  her  footing  and  fell  down  the  two  steps  lead- 
ing to  the  dining-room,  breaking  the  ligaments  of  her 
knee.  A  letter  to  Laura  makes  the  first  mention  of  this 
serious  accident,  whose  effects  she  felt  all  her  life. 

Oak  Glen,  November  9,  1880. 
Dearest  Laura  Child,  — 

Behold  the  mum-jacket,  sitting  clothed  and  in  her 
chair,  confronting  you  after  long  silence,  with  com- 
forting words  of  recovery.  I  am  now  in  the  fourth  week 
of  my  infirmity,  and  I  really  think  that  the  offending, 
or  rather  offended,  muscles  have  almost  recovered 
their  natural  power  of  contraction.  My  exercise  is 
still  restricted  to  a  daily  walk  from  my  bed  in  the  small 


60  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

parlor  to  my  chair  in  the  large  parlor,  and  back  again. 
But  this  walk,  which  at  first  was  an  impotent  limp, 
with  bones  clicking  loosely,  is  now  a  very  respectable 
performance,  not  on  the  tight  rope,  indeed,  but,  let  us 
say,  on  the  tight  garter.  .  .  .  The  only  break  in  the 
general  uniformity  of  my  life  was  dear  Uncle  Sam's 
arrival  on  Sunday  last.  He  remained  with  us  a  couple 
of  hours,  and  was  as  delightful  as  ever.  Oh !  more  news. 
With  his  kind  help,  I  have  taken  Mrs.  Lodge's  small 
house  for  the  winter  and  this  opens  to  me  a  comfort- 
able prospect,  though,  even  with  his  help,  the  two 
ends  will  have  to  be  pulled  a  little  in  order  to  meet.  .  .  . 

The  furnished  house  in  lower  Mount  Vernon  Street 
proved  a  pleasant  habitat.  It  was  nine  years  since  she 
had  had  a  house  in  Boston;  in  spite  of  her  lameness, 
perhaps  partly  because  of  it,  she  enjoyed  entertaining 
her  family  and  friends.  Mrs.  Terry  and  her  daughter 
spent  part  of  the  winter  with  them. 

The  year  1880  was  marked  by  the  publication  of  her 
first  book  since  "Later  Lyrics":  a  tiny  volume  en- 
titled "Modern  Society,"  containing,  beside  the  title 
essay,  a  kindred  one  on  "Changes  in  American  So- 
ciety." The  Journal  makes  little  or  no  mention  of  this 
booklet,  but  Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson  says  of 
it :  "  It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  book  in  American  litera- 
ture better  worth  reprinting  and  distributing.  ...  In 
wit,  in  wisdom,  in  anecdote,  I  know  few  books  so  racy." 

"January  1, 1881.  I  have  now  been  lame  for  twelve 
weeks,  in  consequence  of  a  bad  fall  which  I  had  on 


NEWPORT  61 

October  17.  I  am  still  on  crutches  with  my  left  knee 
in  a  splint.  Have  had  much  valuable  leisure  in  con- 
sequence of  this,  but  have  suffered  much  inconven- 
ience and  privation  of  preaching,  social  intercourse,  etc. 
Very  little  pain  since  the  first  ten  days.  Farewell,  Old 
Year!  Thank  the  Heavenly  Father  for  many  joys, 
comforts  and  opportunities." 

Her  physician  insisted  upon  her  keeping  quiet,  but 
she  could  not  obey  him,  and  continued  to  travel  about 
on  crutches  to  keep  her  many  engagements.  Her  faith- 
ful coachman,  Frank  McCarthy,  was  her  companion 
on  these  journeys. 

"January  26.  Busy  most  of  the  day  with  my  lec- 
ture. Had  a  visit  from  H.  P.  B.,1  who  advised  me  to 
keep  still  and  go  nowhere  until  my  lameness  shall  be 
much  better.  Took  4.30  train  for  Concord,  Massa- 
chusetts. Maud  would  go  with  me,  which  grieved  me, 
as  she  thereby  lost  a  brilliant  ball.  .  .  .  We  went  to 
Mr.  Cheney's,  where  we  found  Frank  Barlow,  a  little 
older,  but  quite  unchanged  as  to  character,  etc.  He 
has  the  endearing  coquetry  of  a  woman.  Dear  Mr. 
Emerson  and  Mrs.  came  to  my  lecture.  Mr.  E.  said 
that  he  liked  it.  The  audience  was  very  attentive 
throughout.  Stepped  only  once  on  my  lame  foot  in 
getting  into  the  sleigh.  ..." 

"January  28.  Busy  all  day  with  my  address  for 
woman's  suffrage  meeting  in  the  evening.  .  .  .  When 
I  entered  with  my  crutches  the  audience  applauded 
quite  generally.  .  .  .  Wendell  Phillips  made  the  con- 
cluding speech  of  the  evening.    He  was  less  brilliant 

1  Dr.  H.  P.  Beach. 


62  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

than  usual,  and  kept  referring  to  what  I  had  said.  I 
thanked  him  for  this  afterwards,  and  he  said  that  my 
speech  had  spoiled  his  own;  that  I  had  taken  up  the 
very  points  upon  which  he  had  intended  to  dwell." 

"February  11.  Lecture  at  Groton,  Massachusetts. 
As  I  went  down  the  steps  to  the  carriage,  one  of  my 
crutches  slipped  and  the  careless  hackman  on  my  right 
let  me  fall,  Frank  catching  me,  but  not  until  I  had  given 
my  knee  a  severe  wrench  which  gave  me  great  pain. 
I  suffered  much  in  my  travel,  but  got  through,  Frank 
helping  me.  .  .  .  My  knee  seemed  much  inflamed  and 
kept  me  awake  much  of  the  night.  My  lecture  on 
'Polite  Society'  was  well  received.  The  good  people 
of  the  house  brought  me  their  new  ledger,  that  my 
name  might  be  the  first  recorded  in  it." 

"February  12.  Dinner  of  Merchants'  Club.  Ed- 
ward Atkinson  invites  me.  Got  back  by  early  train, 
7.50  a.m.,  feeling  poorly.  Did  not  let  Maud  know  of 
my  hurt.  Went  to  the  dinner  mentioned  above,  which 
was  at  the  Vendome.  .  .  .  Was  taken  in  to  dinner  by 
the  President,  Mr.  Fitz.  Robert  Collyer  had  the  place 
on  my  right.  He  was  delightful  as  ever.  Edward 
Everett  Hale  sat  near  me  and  talked  with  me  from 
time  to  time.  Of  course  my  speech  afflicted  me.  I  got 
through  it,  however,  but  had  to  lose  the  other  speeches, 
the  hour  being  so  late  and  the  night  so  inclement,  very 
rainy." 

"February  20.  Very  lame  this  morning.  No  cour- 
age to  try  to  go  out.  Have  been  busy  with  Kant  and 
Miss  Cobbe's  new  book,  'Duties  of  Women,'  which  I 
am  reviewing  for  the  'Christian  Register.'  .  .  ." 


NEWPORT  63 

To  Laura 

129  Mount  Vernon  Street, 
February  27,  1881. 

My  dearest  Laura,  — 

.  .  .  Mr.  Longfellow  came  to  see  us  yesterday,  and 
told  us  his  curious  dreams.  In  one  of  them,  he  went 
to  London  and  found  James  Russell  Lowell  keeping  a 
grocery.  In  another,  people  were  vituperating  the  bad 
weather,  and  dear  Papa  said:  "  Remember,  gentlemen, 
who  makes  it!  "  This  impressed  us  as  very  character- 
istic of  our  dear  one.  My  lameness  is  decreasing  very 
slowly,  and  I  have  now  been  a  week  without  the  splint.. 
The  knee,  however,  still  swells  if  I  attempt  to  use  it,, 
and  my  life  is  still  much  restricted  as  to  movement.  .  .  .. 

"February  28.  ...  A  cloud  seems  to  lift  itself  from' 
that  part  of  my  mind  which  concerns,  or  should  con- 
cern, itself  with  spiritual  things.  Sometimes  a  strong 
unwillen  seizes  me  in  this  direction.  I  feel  in  myself  no 
capacity  to  comprehend  any  features  of  the  unseen 
world.  My  belief  in  it  does  not  change,  but  my  imagi- 
nation refuses  to  act  upon  the  basis  of  the  'things  not 

_  » '» 
seen. 

"March  5.  Longfellow  to  dine." 

"March  30.  In  the  evening  to  the  ever-pleasing 
Hasty-Pudding  Theatrical  Play,  a  burlesque  of  Victor 
Hugo's  'Notre  Dame  de  Paris,'  with  many  saucy  inter- 
jections. The  fun  and  spirits  of  the  young  men  were 
very  contagious,  and  must  have  cheered  all  present 
who  needed  cheering.  .  .  ." 


64  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

To  Laura 

129  Mount  Vernon  Street, 
March  24,  1881. 

My  darling  Laura,  — 

The  March  wind  blows,  and  gives  me  the  spleen. 
I  don't  care  about  anything,  don't  want  my  books, 
nor  my  friends,  nor  nothing.  But  you,  poor  child,  may 
not  be  in  this  wicked,  not  caring  condition,  and  so  I 
will  write  you,  having  oughted  to  for  a  considerable 
time.  Nothing  stays  put,  not  even  put-ty.  Letters 
don't  stay  answered,  faces  don't  stay  washed,  clothes 
don't  stay  either  clean  or  new.  Children  won't  stay 
the  youngest.  The  world  won't  stay  anywhere,  any- 
how. Forty  years  ago  was  good  enough  for  me.  Why 
could  n't  it  stay?  Now,  I  see  you  undertaking  to  com- 
fort me  in  good  earnest,  and  know  just  how  you  would 
begin  by  saying:  "  Well,  it  should! "  .  .  .  Nunc  Richard l 
here  yesterday.  Remarked  nothing  in  particular,  I  re- 
plying in  like  manner.  Kept  his  arm  very  dark,  under 
a  sort  of  cloak.  We  condoled  [with]  each  other  upon 
our  mental  stupidity,  and  parted  with  no  particular 
views  or  sentiments.  I  have  been  to-day  at  a  worldly 
fashionable  lunch.  Nobody  cared  for  anything  but 
what  they  had  on  and  had  to  eat.  "He!  he! "  said  one: 
"ho!  ho!  ho!"  the  other.  " Is  your  uncle  dead  yet?  " 
"No,  but  my  aunt  is."  "  Grandfather  Wobblestick  used 
to  say  " —  "  Why,  of  course  he  did!  "  Which  is  all  that 
I  remember  of  the  conversation.  Now,  darling,  this  is 
perfectly  hateful  of  me  to  turn  and  snarl  at  the  hand 
which  has  just  been  putting  good  morsels  into  my 

1  The  late  Richard  Sullivan. 


NEWPORT  65 

mouth.  But  you  see,  this  is  a  March  wind  in  Boston, 
and  I  can't  help  it.  And  I  hobbled  greatly  up  the  big 
staircase,  also  down.  That's  all.  Auntie  and  Daisy 
and  Maud  lunched,  too,  munchingly.  D.  made  a  new 
capote  for  Maud.  Nobody  made  nothing  new  for  me. 
I  had  no  lace  bow  under  my  chin,  and  looked  so  neg- 
lected! Maud  and  Daisy  always  on  the  wing,  con- 
certs, theatres,  lunches,  etc.,  etc.  Auntie  and  I  have 
some  good  evenings  at  home,  in  which  we  refresh  the 
venerable  intelligence  with  the  modern  publication, 
we  do,  to  wit,  "Early  Life  of  Charles  James  Fox."  We 
also  play  Russian  backgammon.  Big  Frank  Crawford 
has  enlargement  of  's  liver.  This  p.m.  late  Mrs.  C.  C. 
Perkins  has  recep.  for  Miss  Carl  Schurz.  Girls  going, 
but  going  first  to  X.'s  weekly  weak  tea  and  weaker 
talk.  Here  again,  you  spleeny  devil,  get  thee  behind 
me!  I  love  my  fellow-creatures,  but,  bless  you,  not  in 
this  month.  .  .  .  Julia  Nagnos  takes  tea  round  gen- 
erally, and  finds  that  it  agrees  with  her.  ...  I  regard 
you,  on  the  whole,  with  feeling.  Farewell,  Laura,  I  am 
your  poor  old  mad  March  hare  Mamma.  Love  to 
Skip  and  the  little  ones. 

"April  7.  Finished  Carlyle's  'Reminiscences'  to- 
day. Perhaps  nothing  that  he  has  left  shows  more 
clearly  what  he  was,  and  was  not.  A  loyal,  fervent, 
witty,  keen  man.  .  .  .  His  characterizations  of  indi- 
viduals are  keenly  hit  off  with  graphic  humor.  But  he 
could  make  sad  mistakes,  and  could  not  find  them  out, 
as  in  the  case  of  what  he  calls  our  'beautiful  Nigger 
Agony'!!" 


66  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"I  went  out  to  the  Cambridge  Club,  having  had 
chills  and  fever  all  the  night  before.  Read  my  lecture 
on  Paris,  which  was  well  received,  and  followed  by  a 
good  discussion  with  plenty  of  differences  of  opinion. 
Evening  at  home;  another  chill  and  fever." 

To  Laura 

129  Mount  Vernon  Street, 
April  24,  1881. 

Bad  old  party,  is  and  was.  Badness  mostly  of 
heart,  though  head  has  a  decided  crack  in  it.  Unfeel- 
ing old  Beast!  Left  Laura  so  long  without  a  word. 
Guess  't  is  n't  worth  while  for  her  to  write  anything 
more. 

My  poor  dear  little  Laura,  how  miserably  you  must 
have  been  feeling,  I  know  well  by  your  long  silence. 
Oh !  posterity !  posterity !  how  much  you  cost,  and  how 
little  you  come  to!  Did  I  not  cost  as  much  as  another? 
And  what  do  I  come  to?  By  Jingo! 

Darling,  I  have  got  some  little  miserable  mean  ex- 
cuses. W7ant  'em?  Have  had  much  writing  to  do, 
many  words  for  little  money.  For  "  Critic "  (N.Y.) 
and  for  "Youth's  Companion"  and  other  things. 
Then,  have  kept  up  great  correspondence  with  Uncle 
Sam,  who  has  given  me  a  house  in  Beacon  Street !  oh 
gonniac ! l 

We  had  lit'ry  party  last  week.  Dr.  Holmes  and 
William  Dean  Howells  read  original  things.  James 
Freeman  Clarke  recited  and  we  had  ices  and  punch. 

1  Welsh  for  "  glory  "  :  a  favorite  exclamation  of  hers,  learned  in  child- 
hood from  a  Welsh  servant. 


NEWPORT  67 

Maud  thought  it  frumpy,  but  others  liked  it  very 
much.  Have  been  to  church  to-day,  heard  J.  F.  C. 
'Most  off  crutches  now  and  hobble  about  the  house 
with  a  cane.  Use  crutches  to  go  up  and  down  stairs 
and  to  walk  in  the  street.  .  .  .  Have  heard  much  music 
and  have  seen  Salvini  once,  in  the  "Gladiator,"  and 
hope  to  see  him  on  Thursday,  in  "  Macbeth."  How  are 
the  dear  children?  I  do  want  to  see  them,  'specially 
July  Ward.  .  .  . 

"May  27.  Soon  after  7  a.m.  arrived  Uncle  Sam  with 
my  dear  sister  Annie  Mailliard  from  California;  the 
whole  intended  as  a  birthday  surprise.  My  sister  is 
very  little  changed;  always  a  most  tender,  sensitive 
woman.  Sister  Louisa  did  n't  know  of  this  and  came 
at  11  a.m.  to  bring  my  greetings  and  gifts,  with  Mr. 
Terry,  Daisy,  and  Uncle  Sam.  When  Sister  Annie 
appeared,  Sister  Louisa  almost  fainted  with  delight 
and  astonishment." 

"June  20,  Oak  Glen.  Dear  Flossy  suffering  at  6  a.m. 
—  about  all  day.  Her  child,  a  fine  boy,  born  at  3  p.m. 
We  are  all  very  happy  and  thankful.  It  was  touching 
to  see  the  surprise  and  joy  of  the  little  children  when 
they  were  admitted  to  a  sight  of  their  new  relative. 
There  was  something  reverent  in  the  aspect  of  the 
little  creatures,  as  if  they  partly  felt  the  mystery  of 
this  new  life  which  they  could  not  understand.  Some 
one  told  them  that  it  came  from  Heaven.  Harry,  four 
years  old,  said :  '  No,  it  did  n't  come  from  Heaven,  for 
it  has  n't  any  wings.'" 


68  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

To  Laura  (who,  as  usual,  wanted  a  letter) 

Oak  Glen,  July  10,  1881. 
Yes,  she  was  a  little  injured,  but  not  so  bad  as  she 
pretends.  Feelings  hurt  dreadful?  Self-esteem  bruised 
and  swollen?  Spleen  a  little  touched?  Well,  she  has 
had  the  doctor,  and  the  doctor  said:  "  Her  mother  is 
a  public  character,  what  can  we  do  about  it?  " 

Could  my  ink  forever  flow, 
Could  my  pen  no  respite  know. 

Well,  my  darling,  it  was  too  bad,  so  we'll  make  up, 
and  kiss  and  be  friends.  But  now  you  look  here.  Be- 
sides all  my  lit'ry  work,  which  seems  to  be  heaviest  in 
summer  time,  I  had  an  awful  deal  to  do  in  taking  care 
of  Flossy's  children  and  the  new  baby.  The  babe  is  of 
the  crying  sort!  When  anything  is  to  be  done  for  his 
Ma,  the  nurse  expects  some  one  to  hold  him.  ...  I 
returned  last  night  from  a  journey  to  Vermont,  where 
I  read  a  paper  before  the  American  Institute  of  Educa- 
tion, and  also  spoke  at  a  suffrage  meeting  and  also  at 
an  outdoor  mass  meeting,  and  also  at  a  suffrage  meet- 
ing in  Montpelier,  and  came  back,  after  four  days' 
absence,  very  tired.    (Chorus,  Don't  tell  Maud.)  .  .  . 

"August  30.  My  first  performance  at  the  Casino 
Theatre.  It  went  off  very  successfully,  and  I  was  much 
applauded,  as  were  most  of  the  others.  Supper  after- 
wards at  Mrs.  Richard  Hunt's,  where  I  had  to  appear 
in  'plain  clothes,'  having  been  unable  to  accomplish 
evening  dress  after  the  play.  Dear  Flossy  went 
with  me." 


NEWPORT  69 

Another  "performance"  of  that  summer  is  not  noted 

in  the  Journal;  an  impromptu  rendering  of  "Horatius 

at  the  Bridge,"  in  the  "green  parlor"  at  Oak  Glen, 

with  the  following  cast :  — 

Horatius F.  Marion  Crawford. 

Spurius  Lartius J.  W.  H. 

Herminius Maud  Howe. 

The  green  parlor  was  an  oval  grass  plot,  thickly 
screened  by  tall  cedars.  Laura  recited  the  ballad, 
keeping  her  voice  as  she  could  while  the  heroes  waged 
desperate  combat,  but  breaking  down  entirely  when 
Horatius  "plunged  headlong  in  the  tide,"  and  swam 
with  magnificent  action  across  —  the  greensward! 

" September  18.  Preached  in  Tiverton  to-day.  Text: 
'The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away.'  Subject: 
Fashion,  an  intense  but  transient  power;  in  contra- 
distinction, the  eternal  things  of  God." 

"  September  25.  Spent  much  of  this  day  in  compos- 
ing a  poem  in  commemoration  of  President  Garfield's 
death.  Spared  no  pains  with  this  and  succeeded  better 
than  I  had  expected." 

"September  26.  The  President's  funeral.  Services 
held  in  most  cities  of  the  United  States,  I  should  judge. 
Solemn  services  also  in  London  and  Liverpool." 

To  Samuel  Ward 

241  Beacon  Street, 

December  22, 1881. 

Dearest  Brother,  — 

.  .  .  Your  house,  darling,  was  bright  and  lovely,  yes- 
terday.  I  had  my  old  pet,  Edwin  Booth,  to  lunch  — 


70  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

we  were  nine  at  table,  the  poet  Aldrich  disappointing 
us.  From  three  to  four  we  had  a  reception  for  Mr. 
Booth,  quite  the  creme  de  la  creme,  I  assure  you. 
Among  others,  Dr.  Holmes  came.  The  rooms  and  fur- 
niture were  much  admired.  We  gave  only  tea  at  the 
levee,  but  had  some  of  your  good  wine  at  the  luncheon. 
P.S.  Mr.  Booth  in  "  Lear"  last  night  was  sublime! 

To  the  same 

Edwin  Booth  had  sent  us  his  box  for  the  evening. 
The  play  was  "  Hamlet,"  the  performance  masterly. 
People's  tastes  about  plays  differ,  but  I  am  sure  that 
no  one  on  the  boards  can  begin  to  do  what  Booth  does. 
I  saw  him  for  a  moment  after  the  play,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  had  done  his  best  for  me.  Somehow,  I  thought 
that  he  was  doing  his  very  best,  but  did  not  suppose 
that  he  was  thinking  of  me  particularly.  .  .  . 

''January  29,  1882.  Frank  [Marion  Crawford]  had 
met  Oscar  Wilde  the  evening  before  at  Dr.  Chad  wick's; 
said  that  he  expressed  a  desire  to  make  my  acquaint- 
ance. Wrote  before  I  went  to  church  to  invite  him  to 
lunch.  He  accepted  and  Maud  and  Frank,  or  rather 
Marion,  flew  about  to  get  together  friends  and  viands. 
Returning  from  a  lifting  and  delightful  sermon  of 
J.  F.  C.'s,  I  met  Maud  at  the  door.  She  cried:  'Oscar 
is  coming.'  Mrs.  Jack  Gardner,  Madame  Braggiotti, 
and  Julia  completed  our  lunch  party.  Perhaps  ten  or 
twelve  friends  came  after  lunch.  We  had  what  I  might 
call  a  'lovely  toss-up,'  i.e.,  a  social  dish  quickly  com- 
pounded and  tossed  up  like  an  omelet." 


NEWPORT  71 

During  this  year  and  the  next,  Crawford  made  his 
home  at  241  Beacon  Street.  Here  he  wrote  his  first 
three  books,  "Mr.  Isaacs,"  "Dr.  Claudius,"  and  "A 
Roman  Singer."  He  was  a  delightful  inmate,  and  the 
months  he  spent  under  our  mother's  roof  were  happy 
ones.  A  tender  camaraderie  existed  between  aunt 
and  nephew.  During  his  first  winter  in  Boston  he 
thought  of  going  on  the  stage  as  a  singer,  and  studied 
singing  with  Georg  Henschel.  He  had  a  fine  voice,  a 
dramatic  manner,  full  of  fire,  but  an  imperfect  ear. 
This  fault  Henschel  at  first  thought  could  be  remedied : 
for  months  they  labored  together,  trying  to  overcome 
it.  Crawford  delighted  in  singing,  and  "Auntie"  in 
playing  his  accompaniments.  At  dusk  the  two  would 
repair  to  the  old  Chickering  grand  to  make  music  — 
Schubert,  Brahms,  and  arias  from  the  oratorios  they 
both  loved.  In  the  evening  the  three  guitars  would  be 
brought  out,  and  aunt  and  nephew,  with  Maud  or 
Brother  Harry,  would  sing  and  play  German  students' 
songs,  or  the  folk-songs  of  Italy,  Ireland,  and  Scotland. 
Our  mother  was  sure  to  be  asked  for  Matthias  Clau- 
dius's " Als Noah aus dem Kasten  war":  Crawford  would 
respond  with  "Im  schwarzen  Wallfisch  zu  Ascalon" 

This  was  the  first  of  thirty  happy  years  passed  at 
241  Beacon  Street,  the  house  Uncle  Sam  bought  for 
her.  The  day  she  moved  in,  a  friend  asked  her  the 
number  of  her  new  house. 

"241,"  she  answered.  "You  can  remember  it  be- 
cause I'm  the  two-forty  one." 

Oscar  Wilde  was  at  this  time  making  a  lecture  tour 
through  the  United  States.    This  was  the  heyday  of 


72  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

his  popularity;  he  had  been  heralded  as  the  apostle 
of  the  aesthetic  movement.  At  his  first  lecture,  given 
at  the  old  Boston  Music  Hall,  he  appeared  in  a  black 
velvet  court  suit  with  ruffles,  and  black  silk  stockings, 
his  hair  long  and  curling  on  his  shoulders.  A  few  mo- 
ments after  he  had  taken  his  place  on  the  platform,  a 
string  of  Harvard  students  filed  into  the  hall,  dressed 
in  caricature  of  the  lecturer's  costume,  each  with  a  sun- 
flower in  his  coat  and  a  peacock  feather  in  his  hand. 
Our  mother,  who  was  in  the  audience,  recognized  near 
the  head  of  the  procession  her  favorite  grand-nephew, 
Winthrop  Chanler.  Wilde  took  this  interruption  in 
good  part,  welcoming  the  lads  and  turning  the  laugh 
against  them.  "Imitation  is  the  sincerest  flattery," 
he  said,  "though  this  is  a  case  where  I  might  say, 
'Save  me  from  my  friends.'" 

Wilde  came  several  times  to  the  house  in  Boston; 
later  Uncle  Sam  brought  him  to  spend  a  day  or  two 
at  Oak  Glen,  where  the  household  was  thrown  into  a 
flutter  by  the  advent  of  his  valet.  It  was  one  thing  to 
entertain  the  aesthete,  another  to  put  up  the  gentle- 
man's gentleman.  In  spite  of  all  the  affectation  of 
the  aesthetic  pose,  Wilde  proved  a  rarely  entertaining 
guest.  He  talked  amazingly  well;  in  that  company 
all  that  was  best  in  the  man  came  to  the  surface. 
He  recited  his  noble  poem,  "The  Ode  to  Albion," 
under  the  trees  of  Oak  Glen,  and  told  endless  stories 
of  Swinburne,  Whistler,  and  other  celebrities  of  the 
day.  The  dreadful  tragedy  came  later;  at  this  time 
he  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  figures  in  the  literary 
world. 


NEWPORT  73 

"March  4..  To  Saturday  Morning  Club  with  Mrs. 
[John]  Sherwood;  very  busy;  then  with  her  to  Blind 
Asylum  in  a  carriage.  Drove  up  to  front  entrance  and 
alighted,  when  the  gale  took  me  off  my  feet  and  threw 
me  down,  spraining  my  left  knee  so  badly  as  to  render 
me  quite  helpless.  I  managed  to  hobble  into  the  Insti- 
tution and  to  get  through  Julia's  lunch,  after  which  I 
was  driven  home.  Sent  for  Dr.  Beach  and  was  con- 
victed of  a  bad  sprain,  and  sentenced  to  six  weeks  of 
(solitary)  confinement." 

"March  5.  In  bed  all  day." 

"March  6.  On  the  lounge;  able  to  work." 

"March  8.  Day  of  mid-year  conference  of  A.A.W. 
Business  meeting  at  the  N.E.W.C.,  where  I,  of  course, 
could  not  be  present.  Afternoon  meeting  was  in  my 
room.  On  the  whole  satisfactory." 

To  Laura 

241  Beacon  Street, 

March  18,  1882. 

Whereupon,  my  dearest,  let  there  be  no  further 
pribbles  and  prabbles,  which  I  conjugate  thus :  I  prib- 
ble,  thou  prabblest,  he,  she,  or  it  pribble  prabbles. 
Maud  leaveth  on  a  Tuesday,  come  thou  on  that  same 
Tuesday,  taking  care  to  keep  thy  nose  in  front  of  thy 
countenance,  and  not  otherwisely,  which  were  neither 
wisely  nor  too  well.  I  hope  thou  wilt  not  fail  to  come 
on  Tuesday.  And  pray  don't  forget  the  baby,  as  the 
nurse  might  find  it  lonesome  to  be  here  without  her. 
During  the  period  of  thy  visit,  I  will  change  my  name 
to  Jinkins,  we  will  have  such  high  Jinks!  .  .  .  Beacon 


74  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Street  looks  as  though  it  wanted  something.   I  think 
thou  beest  it.  .  .  . 

Am  ever  thy  lame  game  Mother. 

"March  21*.  Longfellow  died  at  about  3.30  p.m.  to- 
day. He  will  be  much  and  deservedly  lamented.  The 
last  of  dear  Chev's  old  set,  the  Five  of  Clubs,  nick- 
named by  Mary  Dwight  the  'Mutual  Admiration 
Society.'  On  hearing  of  this  event,  I  put  off  my  re- 
ception for  the  Zufii  chiefs,  which  should  have  been  on 
Monday,  when  the  funeral  will  probably  take  place." 

"March  26.  Dear  Brother  Sam  came  on  very  un- 
expectedly to  attend  the  funeral  service  held  at  the 
Longfellow  [house]  for  relatives  and  intimates.  I  also 
was  bidden  to  this,  but  thought  it  impossible  for  me 
to  go,  lame  as  I  am.  Sent  word  out  to  Julia  Anagnos, 
who  came  in,  and  went  in  my  place  with  Uncle  Sam. 
The  dear  old  fellow  dined  with  us.  I  got  downstairs 
with  great  difficulty  and  fatigue.  We  had  a  delightful 
evening  with  him,  but  he  would  go  back  to  New  York 
by  the  night  train." 

"March  30.  To-day  the  Zufii  chiefs  and  Mr.  Crush- 
ing, their  interpreter  and  adopted  son,  came  to  lunch- 
eon at  1.45.  There  were  twelve  Indian  chiefs  in  full 
Indian  dress.  Reception  afterwards." 

The  Zuni  Indians  live  in  Arizona.  Once  in  the  year 
they  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  seashore,  and  wading 
into  the  ocean  at  sunrise,  offer  prayer  to  the  Great 
Spirit,  and  fill  their  vessels  of  woven  grass  with  water 
to  be  used  through  the  year  in  their  religious  exercises. 


NEWPORT  75 

This  pilgrimage  had  always  been  made  to  the  Pacific; 
but  in  the  hearts  of  the  tribe  lingered  a  tradition  that 
once  in  a  hundred  years  the  "Water  of  Sunrise"  should 
be  visited,  and  they  dreamed  of  the  Eastern  ocean.  The 
tradition  was  now  confirmed,  the  dream  fulfilled, 
through  the  friendly  offices  of  Mr.  Cushing. 

The  ceremony  was  one  of  touching  interest;  hun- 
dreds of  people  gathered  at  City  Point  to  watch  it. 
Most  of  the  spectators  felt  the  beauty  and  solemnity 
of  the  service  (for  such  it  was) ,  but  a  few  were  inclined 
to  jeer,  till  they  were  sternly  rebuked  by  Phillips 
Brooks. 

As  our  mother  could  not  go  to  see  the  Zufiis,  they 
must  come  to  see  her,  and  Mr.  Cushing  gladly  brought 
them.  They  were  grave,  stalwart  men,  with  a  beauti- 
ful dignity  of  carriage  and  demeanor.  A  picture  not  to 
be  forgotten  is  that  of  her  in  her  white  dress,  bending 
eagerly  forward  to  listen  while  the  chiefs,  sitting  in  a 
circle  on  the  floor,  told  stories,  Mr.  Cushing  interpret- 
ing for  her  benefit.  At  parting,  each  man  took  her 
hand,  and  raised  it  to  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of 
perfect  grace.  The  eldest  chief,  before  this  salute,  held 
her  hand  a  moment,  and  blew  across  the  palm,  east 
and  west.  "Daughter,"  he  said,  "our  paths  have 
crossed  here.   May  yours  be  bright  hereafter!" 

"April  1.  To-day  Edward  [Everett]  Hale  brought 
me  a  parting  memento  of  the  Zufiis  —  the  basket  with 
which  they  had  dipped  up  the  water  from  the  'ocean 
of  sunrise.'  Mr.  Cushing  sent  this.  E.  E.  H.  also  spoke 
about  five  hymns  which  should  be  written  correspond- 


76  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ing  to  the  five  great  hymns  of  the  Catholic  mass.  He 
asked  me  to  write  one  of  these  and  I  promised  to 
try." 

"April  16.  Splint  off  to-day.  Waited  for  Dr.  Beach, 
so  could  not  go  to  church.  Had  an  interesting  talk  with 
the  Doctor  on  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  in  which 
he  is  a  believer." 

"April  27.  Made  to-day  a  good  start  in  writing 
about  Margaret  Fuller.  This  night  at  8.50  p.m.  died 
Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  i.e.,  all  of  him  that  could  die. 
I  think  of  him  as  a  father  gone  —  father  of  so  much 
beauty,  of  so  much  modern  thought." 

"May  7.  To  church,  going  out  for  the  first  time 
without  a  crutch,  using  only  my  cane. 

"J.  F.  C.'s  sermon  was  about  Emerson,  and  was 
very  interesting  and  delicately  appreciative.  I  think 
that  he  exaggerated  Emerson's  solid  and  practical 
effect  in  the  promotion  of  modern  liberalism.  The 
change  was  in  the  air  and  was  to  come.  It  was  in  many 
minds  quite  independently  of  Mr.  Emerson.  He  was 
the  foremost  literary  man  of  his  day  in  America,  phi- 
losopher, poet,  reformer,  all  in  one.  But  he  did  not 
make  his  age,  which  was  an  age  of  great  men  and  of 
great  things." 

"May  llf..  Had  a  sudden  thought  in  church  of  a 
minister  preaching  in  a  pulpit  and  a  fiend  waiting 
to  carry  him  off  to  hell.  Made  some  verses  out  of 
this. 

"This  is  Whitsunday.  ...  I  do  hope  and  pray  for 
a  fresh  outpouring  this  year.  While  I  listened  to  Dr. 
Furness,  two  points  grew  clear  to  me:  one  was,  that  I 


NEWPORT  77 

would  hold  my  Peace  Meeting,  if  I  should  hold  it  alone, 
as  a  priest  sometimes  serves  his  mass.  The  second  was, 
that  I  could  preach  from  the  text:  'As  ye  have  borne 
the  image  of  the  earthy,  so  shall  ye  bear  the  image  of 
the  heavenly,'  and  this  sermon  I  think  I  could  preach 
to  the  prisoners,  as  I  once  tried  to  do  years  ago  when 
dear  Chev  found  the  idea  so  intolerable  that  I  had  to 
give  it  up.  I  am  twenty  years  older  now,  and  the 
Woman  Ministry  is  a  recognized  fact. 

"Still  Sunday  afternoon.  I  am  now  full  of  courage 
for  this  week's  heavy  work." 

"  May  30.  Alas !  alas !  dear  Professor  Rogers  dropped 
dead  to-day  after  some  exercise  at  the  Institute  of 
Technology.  How  he  had  helped  me  in  the  Town  and 
Country  Club !  Without  his  aid  and  that  of  his  wife,  I 
doubt  whether  I  could  have  started  it  at  all :  he  was 
always  vice-president  as  I  was  president.  I  cannot 
think  how  I  can  do  without  him." 

"July  22.  Commemoration  of  Mr.  Emerson  at  Con- 
cord Town  Hall.  Several  portraits  of  him  and  very 
effective  floral  decorations;  no  music.  Prayer  by  Rev. 
Dr.  Holland;  introductory  remarks  by  F.  B.  Sanborn 
in  which  he  quoted  a  good  part  of  a  poem  by  W.  E. 
Channing,  R.  W.  E.  its  theme.  Then  came  an  un- 
mercifully long  paper  by  Dr.  X.,  much  of  which  was 
interesting  and  some  of  which  was  irrelevant.  He  in- 
sisted upon  Mr.  Emerson's  having  been  an  evolution- 
ist, and  unfolded  a  good  deal  of  his  own  tablecloth 
along  with  the  mortuary  napkin." 

"July  29.  Had  a  studious  and  quiet  day.  Was  in 
good  time  for  the  performance  [at  the  Casino].  ..." 


78  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

In  a  letter  to  "Uncle  Sam"  she  speaks  of  "the  labor 
and  fatigue  of  preparing  for  the  theatricals,  which  are 
happily  over.  We  had  rehearsals  every  day  last  week. 
My  part  was  a  short  one,  but  I  took  great  pains  to 
make  it  as  good  as  I  could.  Some  points  which  I 
thought  of  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  added  greatly 
to  the  fun  of  the  impersonation.  We  had  a  fine 
house,  and  an  enthusiastic  reception.  I  had  a  floral 
tribute  —  only  think  of  it!  —  a  basket  of  beautiful 
roses.  .  .  ." 

"September  18.  Left  Newport  to  attend  Saratoga 
Convention,  being  appointed  a  delegate  from  the 
Channing  Memorial  Church,  with  its  pastor,  Reverend 
C.  W.  Wendte." 

"November  8.  Cousin  Nancy  Greene,  my  father's 
cousin,  enters  to-day  upon  her  ninety-ninth  year.  I 
called  to  see  her,  going  first  to  town  to  buy  her  some 
little  gift.  .  .  .  Had  a  very  interesting  talk  with  her. 
She  was  nicely  dressed  in  black,  with  a  fresh  cap  and 
lilac  ribbon,  and  a  little  silk  handkerchief.  For  her 
this  was  quite  an  unusual  toilette.  I  wished  her  a  good 
year  to  come,  but  she  said :  '  Why  should  I  want  to  live 
another  year?  I  can  do  nothing.'  I  suggested  that 
she  should  dictate  her  reminiscences  to  the  girl  who 
waits  upon  her  and  who  writes,  she  says,  a  good  hand." 

"November  11.  I  went  to  see  the  old  Seventh  Day 
Baptist  Church,  now  occupied  by  the  Newport  His- 
torical Society,  in  which  my  great-grandfather,  Gov- 
ernor Samuel  Ward,  used  to  attend  service.  ..." 

"December  2^,  Boston.  Spoke  at  the  Home  for  In- 
temperate Women  at  6  p.m.  I  did  my  best.  Text: 


NEWPORT  79 

'Of  whom  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and  earth  are 
named.'  Subject:  The  Christian  family;  God,  its 
father,  all  mankind  brothers  and  sisters.  .  .  .  After- 
wards went  to  the  Christmas  'Messiah.'  Felt  more 
sure  than  ever  that  no  music  so  beautiful  as  this  has 
ever  been  written." 


CHAPTER  IV 

241  BEACON   STREET:  THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION 

1883-1885;  ad.  64-66 

The  full  outpouring  of  power  that  stops  at  no  frontier, 
But  follows  I  would,  with  /  can,  and  J  can  with  /  do  it ! 

J.  W.  H. 

The  winter  of  1882-83  found  her  once  more  with  a 
family  of  some  size,  her  son  and  his  wife  joining  forces 
with  her  at  241  Beacon  Street.  In  Harry's  college 
days,  mother  and  son  had  made  much  music  together; 
now  the  old  music  books  were  unearthed,  and  the 
house  resounded  with  the  melodies  of  Rossini  and 
Handel.  It  was  a  gay  household,  with  Crawford  liv- 
ing in  the  reception  room  on  the  ground  floor;  play 
was  the  order  of  the  evening,  as  work  was  of  the  day. 

The  new  inmates  brought  new  friends  to  the  circle, 
men  of  science,  the  colleagues  of  her  beloved  "Bunko," 
now  Professor  Howe  of  the  Institute  of  Technology, 
Italians,  and  other  Europeans  introduced  by  Craw- 
ford. There  was  need  of  these  new  friends,  for  old 
ones  were  growing  fewer.  Side  by  side  in  the  Journal 
with  the  mention  of  this  one  or  that  comes  more  and 
more  frequently  the  record  of  the  passing  of  some  dear 
companion  on  life's  journey.  Those  who  were  left  of 
the  great  band  that  made  New  England  glorious  in 
the  nineteenth  century  held  closely  to  each  other,  and 
the  bond  between  them  had  a  touching  significance. 
Across  the  street  lived  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes;  in 


MRS.   HOWE'S   BOSTON   HOUSE,   241   BEACON  STREET 


241   BEACON  STREET  81 

Cambridge  was  Thomas   Wentworth  Higginson;    in 
Dorchester,  Edward  Everett  Hale. 

In  a  letter  to  her  brother  she  speaks  of  "the  con- 
stant 'tear  and  trot'  of  my  Boston  life,  in  which  I 
try  to  make  all  ends  meet,  domestic,  social,  artistic, 
and  reformatory,  and  go  about,  I  sometimes  think, 
like  a  poor  spider  who  spins  no  web.  .  .  .  Marion 
has  been  very  industrious,  and  is  full  of  good  work  and 
of  cheer.  His  book  ["Mr.  Isaacs"]  has  been  such  a 
success  as  to  give  him  at  once  a  recognized  position, 
of  which  the  best  feature,  economically,  is  that  it 
enables  him  to  command  adequate  and  congenial 
employment  at  fairly  remunerative  prices.  ..." 

To  Laura 

My  darling  Child,  — 

Your  letter  makes  me  say  that  I  don't  know  any- 
thing, whether  I  have  written  or  not,  or  ought  to 
write,  or  not.  Mammy's  poor  old  head  is  very  much 
worse  than  ever,  and  I  don't  get  time  even  to  read 
letters,  some  days.  I  can't  tell  why,  except  that  there 
are  many  points  and  people  to  be  reached,  in  one  way 
and  another,  and  I  rush  hither  and  thither,  accom- 
plishing, I  fear,  very  little,  but  stirring  many  stews 
with  my  own  spoon.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  could  not 
bear  another  winter  of  this  stress  and  strain,  which  is 
difficult  to  analyze  or  account  for,  as  "  she  need  n't 
have  done  it,  you  know."  Why  she  must  do  it,  not- 
withstanding, is  hard  to  tell,  or  what  it  is  in  doing  it 
which  so  exhausts  all  nervous  energy  and  muscular 
strength.   Now,  darling,  after  this  prelude  in  a  minor 


82  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

key,  let  me  thank  heaven  that,  after  all,  I  am  well  in 
health,  and  comfortable. 

Wednesday,  10th,  2.20  p.m.  I  wrote  the  above  at 
noon,  yesterday,  expecting  Salvini  to  lunch.  .  .  .  Mrs. 
Appleton  came  in,  and  kept  me,  until  2  minus  20 
minutes,  at  which  time,  nearly  beside  myself  with 
anxiety,  I  tumbled  upstairs,  out  of  one  garment  and 
into  another.  Such  was  my  dressing.  Salvini  came 
and  was  charming.  After  luncheon  came  a  reception. 
Your  little  girls  were  there,  looking  delightfully.  Por- 
ter was  pleased  to  say  that  the  little  ones,  hanging 
around  the  (old)  grandmother  made  a  pleasing  pic- 
ture. .  .  .  No  more  from  'fection 

Mar. 

In  later  January  she  has  "a  peaceful  day  at  Vassar 
College.  ...  In  the  afternoon  met  the  teachers  and 
read  some  poems,  to  wit,  all  of  the  Egyptian  ones,  and 
the  poem  on  the  Vestal  dug  up  in  Rome.  At  bedtime 
last  night  I  had  a  thought  of  ghosts.  I  spoke  of  this 
to  Maria  Mitchell  to-day.  She  told  me  that  Mr.  Mat- 
thew Vassar's  body  had  been  laid  in  this  room  and 
those  of  various  persons  since,  which,  had  I  known, 
I  had  been  less  comfortable  than  I  was." 

"  February  18.  Young  Salvini  [Alessandro]  and  Ven- 
tura to  luncheon,  also  Lizzie  Boott  and  Mrs.  Jack 
[Gardner].  Salvini  is  beautiful  to  look  at,  having 
a  finely  chiselled  Greek  head.  He  is  frank,  cordial, 
and  intelligent,  and  speaks  very  appreciatively  of  his 
parts,  especially  of  Romeo." 


241   BEACON  STREET  83 

"  To  the  Intemperate  Women's  Home  where  I  spoke 
from  the  text,  'Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is 
at  hand.' " 

To  Laura 

March  17,  1883. 
Darling  Child,  — 

Just  let  drop  everything,  and  take  me  up  on  your 
lap.  I'se  very  tired,  writing,  tugging  at  all  sorts  of 
things.  Long  silence  b'tween  us.  Growing  estrange- 
ment, eh?  Richardses  are  better,  eh?  Which  nobody 
can  deny.  .  .  .  Have  been  hard  at  work  upon  a  memoir 
of  Maria  Mitchell,  which  is  well-nigh  finished.  .  .  . 
Am  spleeny  to-day :  the  weather  being  according.  .  .  . 

To  "Uncle  Sam" 

March  28,  1883. 

My  darling  Brother,  — 

I  owe  you  two  good  long  letters,  and  am  ashamed 
to  think  how  long  it  is  since  you  have  seen  my  crabbed 
chirography.  Of  course,  it  is  the  old  story.  I  have 
been  dreadfully  busy  with  all  sorts  of  work,  in  all  of 
which  I  take  delight,  while  yet  to  quote  St.  Paul,  "The 
good  that  I  would  I  do  not."  To  give  you  a  few  items, 
I  have  just  finished  a  short  memoir  of  Maria  Mitchell, 
Professor  of  Astronomy  at  Vassar  College.  This  was 
an  interesting  task,  but  had  to  be  very  carefully  done. 
At  the  same  time,  I  had  to  correct  Maud's  memoir  of 
me,  which  is  to  be  published  in  the  same  collection  of 
biographies  of  eminent  women!  I  think  I  am  eminent 
for  undertaking  ten  times  more  than  I  can  do,  and 


84  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

doing  about  one  tenth  of  it.  Well  —  I  have  given 
three  Sunday  preachments  at  a  sort  of  Woman's 
church  which  they  have  here.  My  themes  were:  "  The 
Order  of  the  Natural  and  the  Spiritual,"  "Tares  and 
Wheat,"  and  "The  Power  of  Religion  in  the  Life."  I 
was  in  New  York  last  Wednesday,  to  preside  over  the 
mid-year  Conference  of  the  Woman's  Congress.  .  .  . 
I  had  a  visit  from  Salvini  the  other  day.  He  was  most 
charming,  and  sent  me  a  box  for  last  evening's  per- 
formance of  "The  Outlaw,"  in  Italian:  "Morte  Civile." 
I  went,  with  my  Harry  and  Laura,  I  in  my  best  attire. 
I  had  received  some  very  beautiful  roses,  which  I  threw 
upon  the  stage,  at  the  recall  after  the  third  Act.  To- 
day I  met  Wendell  Phillips  in  the  street,  and  made  him 
come  in  to  see  Marion,  whose  letter  on  English  rule 
in  India,  printed  in  the  New  York  "Tribune,"  he  had 
liked  very  much.  Phillips  asked  me  how  I  came  to 
live  in  this  part  of  the  city,  and  I  told  him  about  your 
gift  of  the  house.  .  .  .  Marion  is  sitting  by  my  fire, 
with  Browning's  "Jocoseria"  in  his  hands,  from  which 
he  has  been  reading  passages.  It  sounds  strange  and 
silly.  .  .  . 

To  the  same 

Oak  Glen,  May  10,  1883. 
...  —  I  have  been  here  alone  all  these  days,  with 
many  gentle  ghosts  of  past  companionship,  and  with 
a  task  at  which  I  work  steadily  every  day.  This  is 
a  life  of  Margaret  Fuller,  rewritten  mostly  from  the 
memoirs  already  published,  but  also  recast  in  my 
own  thought.  The  publisher  is  in  a  hurry  for  it,  and 


241  BEACON  STREET  85 

I  have  to  work  without  intermission,  i.e.,  as  long  as 
I  can,  every  day;  but  with  all  the  diligence  in  my 
power,  I  cannot  get  along  very  rapidly.  When  I  have 
finished  my  stint,  I  refresh  myself  with  a  little  Greek, 
and  also  with  an  Italian  novel  which  I  have  brought 
with  me.  The  place  looks  lovely,  and  I  sat,  this  after- 
noon, on  the  western  piazza,  near  that  angle  where 
you  and  I  used  to  sit,  last  summer,  and  enjoyed  a  bath 
of  sunshine.  .  .  . 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  August  21,  1883. 
My  Much  Neglected  Darling,  — 

I  give  you  to-day  my  first  hour,  or  half -hour,  as  the 
case  may  be,  feeling  that  my  long  silence  has  been 
abominable,  and  must  be  broken,  even  if  you  should 
feel  it  to  be  your  duty  to  throw  an  inkstand  at  my 
head,  in  return  for  my  letter.  It  is  partly  Backbone's 
fault.  Backbone  has  been  so  scrouged  and  put  upon 
by  the  summer's  work  that  he  sometimes  cuts  up 
amazing.  Said  work  is  pretty  well  out  of  hand  at  this 
moment,  the  last  chapters  of  "Margaret  Fuller"  be- 
ing ready  for  the  press.  ...  I  have  so  much  felt  the 
shocking  uncharity  of  things  in  the  way  of  diaries  and 
letters  which  have  been  published  within  the  last  few 
years.  Not  the  least  bad  exhibition  in  this  kind  has 
been  made  by  Carlyle  and  his  wife.  I  have  just  fin- 
ished reading  the  three  volumes  of  her  letters  and 
memorials,  which  were  indeed  interesting  to  me  by  the 
mention  in  them  of  persons  whom  I  myself  have 
known.    Still,  the  spirit  of  the  book  is  painful.    It  is 


86  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

sad  to  see  how  she  adopted,  at  times,  her  husband's 
harsh  creed.  I  should  think  Froude,  the  editor,  must 
be  wanting  in  common  taste  and  decency,  to  have 
allowed  the  letters  to  appear  in  all  this  crudeness.  I 
am  so  glad  that  I  never  went  near  them,  after  that  one 
tea-drink,  a  very  bad  one,  forty  years  ago.  Is  this 
enough  about  the  Carlyles?  And  is  it  strictly  chari- 
table? I  dunno;  I'm  getting  very  old  to  know  any- 
thing. .  .  . 

The  "Life  of  Margaret  Fuller"  (in  Roberts  Broth- 
ers' series  of  "Famous  Women")  was  a  small  book,  yet 
it  stood  for  much  careful  work,  and  was  so  recognized 
and  received.  The  recognition  sometimes  took  a  sin- 
gular form,  e.g.>  a  letter  from  a  gentleman  styling  him- 
self "Prof.  Nat.  &  Geol.,"  who  desires  two  copies  of 
the  "Margaret  Fuller,"  and  asks  her  to  "accept  for 
them  a  choice  selection  of  '  Lithological,'  Cabinet  of 
Geological  Mineral  specimens,  representing  the  Gla- 
cial, and  Emptus  period,  also  the  Crystalline  forma- 
tion of  the  Earth's  Strata,  in  Coolings,  Rubbings,  and 
Scratchings  of  the  Drift  Age." 

The  exchange  was  not  effected. 

To  "Uncle  Sam" 

December  15,  1883. 
Darling  Bro'  Sam,  — 

I  must  write  you  at  once,  or  my  silence  will  expand 
into  a  broad  ocean  which  I  shall  be  afraid  to  cross.  .  .  . 
I  have  had  a  very  laborious  year,  now  screwed  to 
my  desk,  and  working  at  timed  tasks,  now  travelling 


241  BEACON  STREET  87 

widely,  and  scattering  my  spoken  words.  .  .  .  Well, 
so  much  for  desk- work,  now  for  the  witch  broomstick 
on  which  I  fly.  The  Congress  was  held  in  Chicago, 
in  mid-October.  From  this  place,  I  went  to  Minne- 
apolis. .  .  .  Harry  and  his  wife  are  here,  paying  hand- 
somely their  share  of  our  running  expenses.  The  little 
house  looks  friendly  and  comfortable,  and  I  hope, 
after  a  few  more  flights,  to  enjoy  it  very  much.  These 
will  now  be  very  short.  .  .  .  Boston  is  all  alive  with 
Irving's  acting,  Matthew  Arnold's  lectures,  Cable's 
readings,  and  the  coming  opera.  Pere  Hyacinthe  also 
has  been  here,  and  a  very  eminent  Hindoo,  named 
Mozumdar.  I  have  lost  many  of  these  doings  by  my 
journeys,  but  heard  Arnold's  lecture  on  Emerson  last 
evening.  I  have  also  heard  one  of  Cable's  readings. 
Arnold  does  not  in  the  least  understand  Emerson,  I 
think.  He  has  a  positive,  square-jawed  English  mind, 
with  no  super-sensible  a'perqils.  His  elocution  is  piti- 
able, and  when,  after  his  lecture,  Wendell  Phillips 
stepped  forward  and  said  a  few  graceful  words  of  fare- 
well to  him,  it  was  like  the  Rose  complimenting  the 
Cabbage.  .  .  . 

The  year  1883  closed  with  a  climax  of  triumphant 
fatigue  in  the  Merchants'  and  Mechanics'  Fair,  in 
which  she  was  president  of  the  Woman's  Department. 
This  was  to  lead  to  a  far  more  serious  undertaking  in 
the  autumn  of  1884,  that  of  the  Woman's  Department 
of  the  New  Orleans  Exposition.  The  Journal  may 
bridge  the  interval  between  the  two. 

"February  3, 1884.  Wendell  Phillips  is  dead. 


88  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"To  speak  at  the  meeting  in  memory  of  Cheshub 
Chunder  Sen  at  Parker  Memorial  Hall.  Heard  T.  W. 
Higginson  and  Mrs.  Cheney.  H.  spoke  at  length  of 
Phillips  and  said  too  much  about  his  later  mistakes, 
I  thought,  saying  nothing  about  his  suffrage  work, 
of  which  I  took  care  to  speak,  when  it  was  my  turn. 
Several  persons  thanked  me  for  my  words,  which 
treated  very  briefly  of  Phillips's  splendid  services  to 
humanity." 

[She  spoke  of  him  as  "the  most  finished  orator  of  our 
time,"  and  as  "  the  Chrysostom  of  modern  reform."] 

"February  6.  Wendell  Phillips's  funeral.  I  am  in- 
vited to  attend  memorial  services  at  Faneuil  Hall  on 
Friday  evening.   I  accept." 

"February  9.  .  .  .  I  was  very  glad  that  I  had  come 
to  this,  the  People's  meeting,  and  had  been  able  to 
be  heard  in  Faneuil  Hall,  the  place  of  all  others  where 
the  People  should  commemorate  Wendell  Phillips. 
My  task  was  to  speak  of  his  services  to  the  cause  of 
Woman.  Others  spoke  of  him  in  connection  with 
Labor  Reform,  Anti-Slavery,  Ireland,  and  Temper- 
ance." 

To  Laura 

Just  so,  knowed  you'd  take  advantage  of  my  si- 
lence to  write  su'thin  saucy.  Until  I  got  your  kam- 
munikation  I  felt  kind  o'  penitent  like  —  had  n't 
thanked  for  no  Xmas  nor  nothing.  Felt  self  to  be 
shabby  and  piglike  in  conduct,  though  perfectly 
angelic  in  intention.  Pop  comes  your  letter  —  pop 
goes  my  repentance.   "She's  got  even  with  me,"  I 


241  BEACON  STREET  89 

said:  "If  she  went  into  a  tailor's  shop  to  get  a  cab- 
bage leaf,  to  make  an  apple  pie,  what  does  it  matter 
by  what  initials  she  calls  herself?  Who's  going  to  dis- 
tress themselves  about  the  set  of  her  cloak?  And  she 
do  boast  about  it  preposterous,  and  that  are  a  fact." 

Here  endeth  the  first  meditation,  and  I  will  now  fall 
back  upon  the  "Dearly  beloved,"  for  the  rest  of  the 
service.  .  .  . 

To  the  same 
241  Beacon  Street,  February  11,  1884. 

Oh,  thou,  who  art  not  quite  a  Satan! 

Question  is,  dost  thou  not  come  very  near  it?  .  .  . 

I  have  been  very  busy,  and  have  orated  tremendous, 
this  winter.  I  did  n't  go  for  to  do  it,  you  know,  but  I 
cou'n'  avoin  it.  [A  household  expression,  dating  back 
to  her  childhood,  when  a  gentleman  with  a  defect 
of  speech,  speaking  of  some  trouble  incurred  by  her 
father,  said,  "Poor  Mr.  Warn!  he  cou'n'  avoin  it!" 
This  gentleman  was  a  clergyman,  and  was  once 
heard  to  assure  his  congregation  that  "their  hens 
[heads]  wou'n  be  crownen  with  glory! "] 

"February  12.  Hearing  at  State  House,  Committee 
of  Probate,  etc.,  on  the  petition  of  Julia  Ward  Howe 
and  others  that  the  laws  concerning  married  women 
may  be  amended  in  three  respects.  We  had  prepared 
three  separate  bills,  one  providing  that  the  mother 
shall  have  equal  rights  with  the  father  in  their  chil- 
dren, especially  in  determining  their  residence  and  their 
education.  A  second  ruling  that  on  the  wife's  death, 
the  husband,  who  now  gets  all  her  real  estate,  may 


90  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

have  one  half,  and  the  children  the  other,  and  that 
the  widow  shall  have  the  same  right  to  half  the  hus- 
band's real  estate  after  his  death.  A  third  bill  was 
devised  to  enable  husband  and  wife  to  contract  valid 
money  obligations  toward  each  other." 

Through  the  untiring  efforts  of  the  Suffragists  these 
bills  were  all  passed. 

"March  27.  ...  I  heard  with  dismay  of  the  injury 
done  to  my  Newport  place  by  the  breaking  of  Nor- 
man's dam.   Was  very  much  troubled  about  this." 

To  Laura 

March  29,  1884. 
My  dearest  Darling, — 

Dunno  why  I  hain't  wrote  you,  'cept  that,  while  I 
was  lame,  the  attitude  of  reclining  with  my  foot  ex- 
tended was  very  fatiguing  to  me.  The  injury  was  very 
slight.  I  only  knocked  my  left  foot  pretty  hard  (an- 
glice,  stubbed  my  toe)  hurrying  upstairs,  but  the  weak 
left  knee  gave  way,  and  turned,  letting  me  down,  and 
feloniously  puffing  itself  up,  which  Charity  never  does. 
It  could  not  be  concealed  from  Maud,  and  so  Beach 
was  sent  for,  and  a  fortnight  of  stay  still  ordered  and 
enforced.  On  Tuesday  last  I  broke  bounds  and  railed 
it  to  Buffalo,  New  York,  with  my  crutches,  which 
were  no  longer  needed.  This  was  for  the  mid-year 
Conference  of  our  Congress.  Before  I  say  more  under 
this  head,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  returned  from  Buffalo 
this  morning,  much  the  better  for  my  trip.   I  had  a 


241   BEACON  STREET  91 

lovely  visit  there,  in  a  most  friendly  and  comfortable 
house,  with  carriages  at  my  disposition.  A  beautiful 
luncheon  was  given  to  us  Congressers  and  I  gave  a 
lecture  on  Thursday  evening,  price  $50,  and  sat  in  a 
high  chair,  thinking  it  not  prudent  to  stand  so  long. .  .  . 

"April  1+.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury a  Christian  missionary,  Chinese,  but  disguised 
as  a  Portuguese,  penetrated  into  Corea,  and  was  much 
aided  in  his  work  by  the  courageous  piety  of  Columba 
Kang,  wife  of  one  of  the  lesser  nobles.  She  and  the 
missionary  suffered  torture  and  death. .  .  .  Merchants, 
not  diplomatists,  are  the  true  apostles  of  civilization. 

"Questions  for  A.A.W.  [i.e.,  for  the  annual  Con- 
ference of  the  Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Women]:  How  far  does  the  business  of  this  country 
fulfil  the  conditions  of  honest  and  honorable  traffic? 

"What  is  the  ideal  of  a  mercantile  aristocracy?" 

"April  7.  General  Armstrong  called  last  evening. 
He  spoke  of  the  negroes  as  individually  quick-witted 
and  capable,  but  powerless  in  association  and  deficient 
in  organizing  power.  This  struck  me  as  the  natural 
consequence  of  their  long  subjection  to  despotic  power. 
The  exigencies  of  slavery  quickened  their  individual 
perceptions,  and  sharpened  their  wits,  but  left  them 
little  opportunity  for  concerted  action.  Freedom  allows 
men  to  learn  how  to  cooperate  widely  and  strongly  for 
ends  of  mutual  good.  Despotism  heightens  personal 
consciousness  through  fear  of  danger,  but  itself  fears 
nothing  so  much  as  association  among  men,  which  it 
first  prohibits  and  in  time  renders  impossible." 


92  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"April  15.  A  delightful  Easter.  I  felt  this  day  that, 
in  my  difficulties  with  the  Anti-Suffragists,  the  gen- 
eral spread  of  Christian  feeling  gives  me  ground  to 
stand  upon.  The  charity  of  Christendom  will  not 
persist  in  calumniating  the  Suffragists,  nor  will  its 
sense  of  justice  long  refuse  to  admit  their  claims." 

"April  17.  Sam  Eliot  was  in  a  horse-car,  and  told 
me  that  Tom  Appleton  had  died  of  pneumonia  in  New 
York.  The  last  time  I  spoke  with  him  was  in  one  of 
these  very  cars.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  been  to  the 
funeral,  meaning  that  of  Wendell  Phillips.  I  was  sure 
that  he  had  been  much  impressed  by  it.  I  saw  him 
once  more,  on  Commonwealth  Avenue  on  a  bitter  day. 
He  walked  feebly  and  was  much  bent.  I  did  not  stop 
to  speak  with  him  which  I  now  regret.  He  was  very 
friendly  to  me,  yet  the  sight  of  me  seemed  to  rouse 
some  curious  vein  of  combativeness  in  him.  He  had 
many  precious  qualities,  and  had  high  views  of  char- 
acter, although  he  was  sometimes  unjust  in  his  judg- 
ments of  other  people,  particularly  of  the  come-outer 
reformers." 

"April  19.  To  get  some  flowers  to  take  to  T.  G. 
A.'s  house.  Saw  him  lying  placid  in  his  coffin,  robed 
in  soft  white  cashmere,  with  his  palette  and  brushes 
in  his  hands.  ..." 

To  Florence 

April  20,  1884. 
...   I  went  yesterday  to  poor  Tom  Appleton's  fu- 
neral.   It  is  very  sad  to  lose  him,  and  every  one  says 
that  a  great  piece  of  the  old  Boston  goes  with  him.  .  .  . 


241   BEACON  STREET  93 

I  dined  with  George  William  Curtis  yesterday  at  Mrs. 
Harry  Williams's.  George  William  was  one  of  Tom 
Appleton's  pall-bearers,  —  so  were  Dr.  Holmes  and 
Mr.  Winthrop.  .  .  . 

Curtis's  oration  on  Wendell  Phillips  was  very  fine. 

"April  20.  Thought  sadly  of  errors  and  shortcom- 
ings. At  church  a  penitential  psalm  helped  me  much, 
and  the  sermon  more.  I  felt  assured  that,  whatever 
may  be  my  fate  beyond  this  life,  I  should  always 
seek,  love,  and  rejoice  in  the  good.  Thus,  even  in 
hell,  one  might  share  by  sympathy  the  heavenly 
victory." 

"May  5.  I  begin  in  great  infirmity  of  spirit  a  week 
which  brings  many  tasks.  First,  I  must  proceed  in  the 
matter  of  Norman's  injury  to  my  estate,  either  to  a 
suit  or  a  settlement  by  arbitration  unless  I  can  pre- 
viously come  to  an  understanding  with  N." 

A  heavy  affliction  was  soon  to  drive  all  other 
thoughts  from  her  mind.  On  May  19,  a  telegram 
arrived  from  Italy  saying,  "Samuel  Ward  expired 
peacefully." 

She  writes:  "Nothing  could  be  more  unexpected 
than  this  blow.  Dear  Bro'  Sam  had  long  since  been 
pronounced  out  of  danger.  .  .  .  Latterly  we  have 
heard  of  him  as  feeble,  and  have  felt  renewed  anxiety, 
but  were  entirely  unprepared  for  his  death." 

"May  20.  Dark  days  of  nothingness  these,  to-day 
and  yesterday.  Nothing  to  do  but  be  patient  and 
explore  the  past." 


94  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

"May  21.  Had  a  sitting  all  alone  with  dear  Uncle 
Sam's  picture  this  afternoon.  I  thought  it  might  be 
the  time  of  his  funeral.  I  read  the  beautiful  90th 
Psalm  and  a  number  of  his  bright,  sweet  lyrics.  A 
sympathetic  visit  from  Winthrop  Chanler." 

"May  27.  .  .  .  Dear  Brother  Sam's  death  has 
brought  me  well  in  sight  of  the  farther  shore.  May  I 
be  ready  when  it  is  my  turn  to  cross." 

To  her  sister  Louisa 

Dearest  Sister,  — 

I  was  already  in  debt  to  you  for  one  good  letter 
when  this  later  one  arrived,  giving  me  the  full,  desired 
particulars  of  our  dear  one's  last  days  on  earth.  You 
and  Annie  both  write  as  though  the  loss  were  heavi- 
est to  me,  and  I  only  feel  that  I  cannot  feel  it  half 
enough.  The  pathos  of  a  life  of  such  wonderful  vicissi- 
tudes! I  cannot  half  take  it  in.  What  must  he  not 
have  suffered  in  those  lonely  days  of  wandering  and 
privation,  while  I  was  comfortable  in  my  household! 
.  .  .  God  knows,  I  had  every  reason  to  love  him,  for 
he  was  heroically  faithful  to  his  affection  for  me. 
Now,  I  feel  how  little  I  appreciated  his  devotion, 
and  how  many  chimeras,  in  my  foolish  wool-gathering 
head,  crowded  upon  this  most  precious  affection,  which 
was  worthy  of  a  much  larger  place  in  my  thoughts. 
His  death  is  a  severe  loss  to  Maud  and  me.  .  .  .  We 
were  always  hoping  to  rejoin  him,  and  to  pass  some 
happy  years  with  him.  A  great  object  is  withdrawn 
from  our  two  lives.  Nothing  can  take  his  place  to 
either  of  us.  .  .  .  As  I  write,  the  tears  come.  Like  you, 


241  BEACON  STREET  95 

I  long  to  sit  and  talk  it  all  over  with  the  two  who  are 
all  I  have  left  of  my  own  generation.  To  our  children, 
the  event  cannot  be  at  all  what  it  is  to  us.  They  are 
made  for  the  future,  and  our  day  is  not  theirs.  I  was 
comforted,  in  your  first  letter,  in  reading  of  that 
pleasant,  quiet  talk  you  had  with  him,  when,  among 
other  things,  you  read  to  him  the  lovely  verses  from 
St.  John's  Gospel,  which  have  become  a  classic  of 
consolation  among  Christian  people.  I  believe  that 
he  is  in  the  heaven  accorded  to  those  who  have  loved 
their  fellow-men,  for  who  ever  coined  pure  kindness 
into  acts  as  he  did?  One  of  the  lessons  I  learn  from  his 
life  is  that  it  is  very  hard  for  us  to  judge  rightly  the 
merits  and  demerits  of  others.  Here  was  a  man  with 
many  faults  on  the  surface,  and  a  heart  of  pure  gold 
beneath.  .  .  .  The  thought  of  his  lonely  funeral  and 
solitary  grave  has  wrung  my  heart  at  times,  but  some- 
times I  think  of  it  as  a  place  where  one  might  be  glad 
to  be  at  rest.  .  .  .  But  now,  dear,  I  have  had  all  the 
heart-break  I  can  bear,  writing  this  letter.  Let  me 
now  speak  of  the  living  and  tell  you  where  and  how 
we  are.  ...  I  left  very  unwillingly  to  come  down 
here,  and  try  to  get  my  poor  wrecked  place  in  order. 
You  know,  of  course,  that  the  dam  which  was  built 
to  cut  off  my  water,  and  against  which  I  obtained  an 
injunction,  burst  this  spring,  and  destroyed  my  two 
ponds,  my  carriage,  and  a  good  part  of  my  barn.  I 
have  tried,  in  a  lumbering  way,  to  get  justice,  but  have 
not  yet  succeeded.  I  have  had,  too,  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  in  my  presidency  of  the  Woman's  Congress, 
this  year.    Almost  as  soon  as  I  open  my  eyes  in  the 


96  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

morning,  these  black  dogs  of  worry  spring  upon  me. 
I  long  to  be  free  from  them.  .  .  . 

"June  28.  Senator  Bayard  to  William  A.  Duncan 
about  dear  Bro'  Sam:  'It  is  just  one  of  those  little 
kindnesses  of  which  his  life  was  so  full.  There  is  no 
doubt,  as  you  say,  that  his  later  years  were  his  best! 
The  wine  of  life  fined  itself.  ...  He  was  readily  sym- 
pathetic, and  did  in  Rome  as  Romans  did,  and  kept 
time  and  tune  to  a  great  variety  of  instruments.  But 
the  kind  good  heart  always  beat  truly,  and  the  array 
of  good  deeds  to  his  credit  in  the  great  book  of  account 
is  delightful  to  think  of.'  " 

To  Laura 

Newport,  August  15,  1884. 

Have  n't  I  written  to  you?  I  have  an  idea  of  some 
long  letter  of  mine  not  answered  by  you.  But  this 
may  be  one  of  those  imaginary  good  actions  which 
help  to  puff  me  up.  Life,  you  see,  gallops  on  to  such 
a  degree  with  me  that  I  don't  know  much  difference 
between  what  I  have  intended  to  do  and  what  I  have 
done.  .  .  . 

I  think  novels  is  humbug.  What  you  think?  They 
don't  leave  you  anything  but  a  sort  of  bad  taste.  .  .  . 

"August  27.  Simply  good  for  nothing,  but  to  amuse 
the  little  Hall  children.  A  strange  dead  level  of  in- 
difference. Do  not  see  any  difference  between  one 
thing  and  another.  This,  I  should  think,  must  come 
from  a  vagary  of  the  liver.   Worst  sort  of  nervous  pros- 


241  BEACON  STREET  97 

tration  —  to  prostrate  one's  self  before  one's  nerves. 
To  town  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  dead  indifference 
and  lassitude  went  off  somewhat." 

"August  29.  We  dined  at  the  Booths'  to-day,  meet- 
ing Mr.  and  Mrs.  Joseph  Jefferson  and  William  War- 
ren. A  rare  and  delightful  occasion.  Jefferson  talked 
much  about  art.  He,  Booth,  and  Warren  all  told 
little  anecdotes  of  forgetfulness  on  the  stage.  Jeffer- 
son had  told  a  love-story  twice,  Booth  had  twice  given 
the  advice  to  the  players  [in  "Hamlet"],  Warren,  in 
'Our  American  Cousin,'  should  have  tried  to  light  a 
match  which  would  not  light.  He  inadvertently  turned 
the  ignitable  side,  which  took  fire,  and  so  disconcerted 
him  that  he  forgot  where  he  was  in  the  play  and  had  to 
ask  some  one  what  he  had  last  said,  which  being  told 
him  enabled  him  to  go  on." 

"September  25.  Finished  to-day  my  Congress  paper. 
I  have  written  this  paper  this  week  instead  of  going 
to  the  Unitarian  Convention,  which  I  wished  much 
to  attend.  ...  I  did  not  go  because  I  thought  I  ought 
neither  to  leave  home  unnecessarily,  to  spend  so  much 
money,  nor  to  put  off  the  writing  of  the  A.A.W. 
paper. 

"I  shall  look  a  little  to  see  whether  circumstances 
hereafter  will  not  show  that  it  was  best  for  me  to  fol- 
low this  course.  My  Daemon  did  not  say  'go,'  but  he 
sometimes  plays  me  false.  I  have  certainly  had  the 
most  wonderful  ease  in  writing  this  paper  which,  I 
thought,  would  occupy  a  number  of  weary  days,  and 
lo!  it  has  all  written  itself,  currente  calamo." 

"October  5.   Is  the  law  of  progress  one  of  harmony 


98  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

or  of  discord?  Do  the  various  kinds  of  progress,  moral, 
intellectual,  political,  and  economic  or  industrial, 
agree  or  disagree?  Do  they  help  or  hinder  each 
other?" 

To  Laura 
Newport,  Rhode  Island,  October  9,  1884. 
My  darling  Laura,  — 

My  poor  wits,  in  these  days,  are  like  bits  of  sewing 
silk  wound  on  a  card.  You  unwind  a  little  and  straight- 
way come  to  an  end.  The  wonder  is,  there  are  so 
many  ends.  Here  is  a  precise  picture  of  our  days  as 
passed  at  present.  Morning,  I  wake  early,  lie  and 
think  over  my  past  life,  with  little  satisfaction. 
Bathe.  Breakfast.  Walk  with  Maud,  Sonny l  tug- 
ging alongside.  Maud  goes  much  further  than  I  do. 
Sonny  and  I  return,  take  a  basket  and  gather  dry 
twigs  to  brighten  the  evening  fire.  I  visit  my  mare  in 
her  stable  —  a  good  custom,  as  my  man  is  not  over- 
careful  of  her  stall.  Maud  comes  back,  I  exercise  her 
voice.  I  go  to  books,  she  to  desk.  Study  Greek  a  good 
deal,  reading  Thucydides  and  Aristophanes.  Dinner, 
coffee,  more  reading  and  writing,  unless  we  go  to 
town.    Evening,  music,  reading  or   cards,  worrying 

about ,  bed.    I  have  not  mentioned  my  own  much 

writing,  because  you  will  understand  it.  I  am  trying 
to  compass  a  story,  but  have  my  fears  about  it.  My 
paper  for  the  Woman's  Congress  is  entitled  "How  to 
broaden  the  Views  of  Society  Women."  Darling  dear, 
what  more  can  I  tell  you?   Is  n't  this  too  much  al- 

1  John  Howe  Hall. 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION      99 

ready?  Now,  do  spunk  up  and  have  some  style  about 
you.  ...  Be  cheerful  and  resolute,  my  love,  life  comes 
but  once,  and  is  soon  over.  .  .  . 

"October  13.  To  New  Bedford,  for  the  Suffrage 
meeting;  trains  did  not  connect  at  Myricks,  where, 
after  some  delay  and  negotiation,  I  with  difficulty  per- 
suaded the  conductor  of  a  freight  train  to  take  me  to 
New  Bedford  in  his  caboose.  This  saved  me  time 
enough  to  go  to  the  Delano  Mansion,  restore  my 
strength  with  food,  and  put  on  my  cap  and  ruche.  The 
Delanos  were  very  kind.  I  read  my  Congress  paper  on 
'Benefits  of  Suffrage  to  Women.'  " 

"November  23.  To  Louisburg  Square  to  my  old 
friend's  funeral  [Hamilton  Wilde].  .  .  .  Around  and 
before  me  were  the  friends  and  associates  of  the  golden 
time  in  which  his  delightful  humor  and  bonhomie  so 
often  helped  me  in  charades  and  other  high  times.  It 
was  ghostly  —  there  were  Lizzie  Homans  and  Jerry 
Abbott,  who  took  part  with  him  and  William  Hunt  in 
the  wonderful  charade  in  which  the  two  artists  rode  a 
tilt  with  theatre  hobbies.  The  gray  heads  which  I  had 
once  seen  black,  brown,  or  blond,  heightened  the  effect 
of  the  picture.  It  was  indeed  a  sic  transit.  I  said  to 
Charles  Perkins  —  'For  some  of  us,  it  is  the  dressing 
bell!'  Oh!  this  mystery!  So  intense,  so  immense  a 
fact  and  force  as  human  life,  tapering  to  this  little 
point  of  a  final  leave-taking  and  brief  remembrance!" 

Now  came  the  New  Orleans  Exposition,  in  which 
she  was  to  be  chief  of  the  Woman's  Department. 


100  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

It  was  already  late  when  she  received  the  appoint- 
ment, but  she  lost  no  time.  Establishing  her  head- 
quarters at  No.  5  Park  Street  (for  many  years  the 
home  of  the  "Woman's  Journal"  and  the  New  Eng- 
land Woman's  Club),  she  sent  out  circulars  to  every 
State  in  the  Union,  asking  for  exhibits,  and  appealed 
to  the  editors  of  newspapers  all  over  the  country  to 
send  women  correspondents  for  a  month  or  more  to 
the  Exposition.  She  called  meetings  in  Boston,  New 
York,  Providence,  Philadelphia,  and  Hartford,  at  all 
of  which  she  spoke,  imploring  the  women  to  bestir 
themselves,  and,  late  as  it  was,  to  make  an  effort  to  get 
together  a  proper  showing  of  women's  work  for  the 
great  Fair. 

Beside  all  this,  she  kept  up  through  the  autumn 
an  active  correspondence  with  the  Exposition  authori- 
ties at  New  Orleans. 

The  Exposition  was  scheduled  to  open  on  the  1st 
of  December:  it  did  actually  open  on  the  16th.  She 
writes:  — 

"A  steamer  had  been  chartered  to  convey  thither 
the  officers  of  the  Exposition  and  their  invited  guests. 
Seated  on  the  deck,  the  chief  of  the  Woman's  Depart- 
ment and  her  fellow-workers  watched  the  arrival  of 
the  high  dignitaries  of  the  State  and  city,  escorted  by 
members  of  the  military,  and  by  two  bands  of  music; 
one,  the  famous  Mexican  Band.  All  the  craft  on  the 
river  were  adorned  with  flags  and  streamers.  The 
Crescent,  which  gives  the  city  its  familiar  designation, 
was  pointed  out,  and  the  'Father  of  Waters'  was 
looked  upon  with  admiring  eyes.  The  steamer  brought 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION    101 

us  to  the  Exposition  grounds,  and  here  a  procession 
was  formed  in  which  the  ladies  of  the  Woman's  De- 
partment were  assigned  a  place  which  they  had  some 
difficulty  in  keeping.  The  march  led  to  the  Main  Build- 
ing. The  opening  prayer  was  made  by  the  Reverend 
De  Witt  Talmage.  At  a  given  moment  a  telegram 
Was  received  from  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
Chester  A.  Arthur,  declaring  the  Exposition  to  be  for- 
mally open.  Immediately  after,  the  son  of  the  Direc- 
tor-General, a  fine  lad  of  twelve  years,  touched  the  elec- 
tric button  by  which  the  machinery  of  the  Exposition 
was  set  in  motion. 

"  Returning  by  land,  we  found  the  streets  gay  with 
decorations,  in  which  the  colors  of  the  orthodox  flag 
were  conspicuous." 

Maud  was  with  her,  and  shared  her  labors,  as  did 
her  devoted  friend  Isabel  Greeley.  At  this  time  the 
floor  of  the  gallery  destined  for  the  women's  exhibit 
was  not  laid.  By  December  29  the  officers  of  the  de- 
partment were  able  to  hold  a  meeting  in  "an  enclosure 
without  doors  or  suitable  furniture."  When  all  was 
supposed  to  be  ready  for  the  exhibits,  it  was  found 
that  the  roof  leaked  badly,  the  timber  having  so 
shrunk  under  the  action  of  the  sun  as  to  tear  away  the 
waterproof  felting.  Moreover,  there  was  not  enough 
money  to  carry  on  the  business  of  the  Department. 
Funds  had  been  promised  by  the  Board  of  Manage- 
ment, but  these  funds  were  not  forthcoming,  the  Board 
itself  being  in  difficulties.  Our  mother  had  foreseen 
this  contingency. 

"Ladies,"  she  said,  "we  must  remember  that  women 


102  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

have  sometimes  built  churches  with  no  better  instru- 
ments than  thimbles  and  a  teapot !  If  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst,  we  must  come  before  the  public  and 
endeavor  with  its  aid  to  earn  the  money  necessary  to 
complete  our  enterprise." 

This  foreboding  soon  became  a  fact,  and  early  in 
January  she  found  herself  in  rather  a  "  tight  corner." 
She  had  sent  out  the  call  for  exhibits  to  every  State 
in  the  Union  ;  with  great  effort  the  women  of  the 
country  had  responded  most  generously.  She  now  felt 
herself  personally  responsible  for  these  exhibits,  and 
determined  that,  coute  que  coute,  they  should  be  well 
displayed  and  the  Woman's  Department  properly  in- 
stalled. 

There  was  no  money:  very  well!  she  would  earn 
some.  She  arranged  a  series  of  entertainments,  begin- 
ning with  a  lecture  by  herself.  There  followed  a  time  of 
great  stress  and  anxiety,  which  taxed  to  the  utmost 
her  mother- wit  and  power  of  invention.  Faculties 
hitherto  dormant  awoke  to  meet  the  task;  she  de- 
vised practical,  hard,  common-sense  methods,  far  re- 
moved from  her  life  habit  of  intellectual  labor.  She 
had  moved  into  a  new  apartment  in  the  house  of  life, 
one  nearer  the  earth  and  not  quite  so  near  the  stars. 
She  often  quoted  during  these  months  Napoleon's  say- 
ing, on  being  told  that  something  he  wished  to  do  was 
impossible,  " Ne  me  dites  pas  ce  bete  de  mot  J" 

In  spite  of  endless  vexations,  it  was  a  time  of  tre- 
mendous enjoyment;  every  nerve  was  strained,  every 
gift  exercised ;  the  cup  of  life  was  brimming  over,  even 
if  it  was  not  all  filled  with  honey. 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION     103 

"  January  13, 1885.  Preparing  for  my  lecture  this 
evening.  Subject,  'Is  Polite  Society  Polite?'  Place, 
Werlein  Hall.  I  was  very  anxious  —  the  lecture  ap- 
peared to  me  very  homely  for  a  Southern  audience 
accustomed  to  rhetorical  productions.  My  reception 
was  most  gratifying.  The  house  was  packed  and  many 
were  sent  away.  Judge  Gayarre  introduced  me.  Joa- 
quin Miller  came  first,  reciting  his  'Fortunate  Isles.' 
I  said  in  opening  that  even  if  my  voice  should  not  fill 
the  hall,  my  good- will  embraced  them  all.  Every  point 
in  the  lecture  was  perceived  and  applauded,  and  I  felt 
more  than  usually  in  sympathy  with  my  audience." 

"The  second  entertainment  devised  for  the  relief 
of  the  Woman's  Department  was  a  ''Soiree  Creole, 
the  third  and  last  a  'grand  musical  matinee'  at  the 
French  Opera  House,  for  which  we  were  indebted  to 
the  great  kindness  of  Colonel  Mapleson,  who  granted 
us  the  use  of  the  house,  and  by  whose  permission  sev- 
eral of  his  most  distinguished  artists  gave  their  ser- 
vices. Monsignor  Gillow,  Commissioner  for  Mexico, 
also  allowed  his  band  to  perform." 

The  difficulty  of  persuading  the  different  artists  to 
sing,  of  pacifying  their  separate  agents  in  the  matter 
of  place  on  the  programme  and  size  of  the  letters  in 
which  names  were  advertised,  of  bringing  harmony 
out  of  all  the  petty  rivalries  and  cabals  between  the 
different  members  of  the  troupe,  required  a  patience 
worthy  of  a  better  cause.  Meanwhile  there  were  other 
troubles.  Most  of  the  women  commissioners  appointed 
by  the  different  States  proved  loyal  comrades  to  their 


104  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

chief  in  her  great  and  distressful  labor;  but  there  were 
others  who  gave  her  endless  trouble. 

"February  6.  Our  concert.  The  weather  was  favor- 
able. Lieutenant  Doyle  came  to  escort  me  to  the 
theatre.  My  box  was  made  quite  gay  by  the  uniforms 
of  several  navy  officers.  The  house  was  packed.  We 
took  $1500  and  hope  to  have  more.  I  particularly  en- 
joyed the  Semiramide  overture,  which  the  band  gave 
grandly.  Rossini's  soul  seemed  to  me  to  blossom  out 
of  it  like  an  immortal  flower." 

These  entertainments  brought  in  over  two  thousand 
dollars.  This  money  enabled  the  women  to  install  such 
exhibits  as  were  ready,  to  pay  for  a  time  the  necessary 
workmen,  and  to  engage  a  special  police  force  for  the 
protection  of  their  goods.  The  United  States  ships  in 
the  harbor  also  espoused  the  cause,  Admiral  Jouett, 
of  the  flagship  Tennessee,  and  Captain  Kane,  of  the 
Galena,  sending  experienced  craftsmen  whose  ready 
and  skilful  work  soon  changed  the  somewhat  desolate 
aspect  of  the  gallery. 

The  arrangements  were  as  simple  as  might  be,  the 
greatest  expense  being  the  purchase  of  showcases.  The 
tables  were  of  rough  pine  boards  covered  with  cam- 
brics and  flannels,  the  draperies  of  the  simplest  and 
cheapest,  the  luxury  of  a  carpet  was  enjoyed  only  here 
and  there;  but  the  excellence  of  the  exhibits,  and  the 
taste  with  which  they  were  displayed,  made  the  de- 
partment a  pleasant  place.  The  winter  was  cold ;  the 
wooden  walls  of  the  Government  Building  let  in  many 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION     105 

a  chilling  blast;  but  there  was  a  stove  in  the  office  of 
the  chief  of  installation,  and  with  its  help  the  daily  cup 
of  tea  was  made  which  kept  the  workers  alive, 

Each  State  and  Territory  had  a  separate  opening 
day  for  its  exhibit.  These  days  were  marked  by  pub- 
lic meetings  at  which  compliments  were  exchanged, 
addresses  made,  and  the  exhibits  turned  over  to  the 
management.  It  was  considered  obligatory  for  all 
the  commissioners  to  attend  these  meetings,  and  the 
women  spent  many  weary  hours  trying  to  hear  the 
addresses  of  distinguished  individuals  whose  voices 
contended  in  vain  with  the  din  of  the  machinery.  The 
Mexican  Band  played,  and  relieved  the  tedium  of  the 
long  sittings;  but  the  women  commissioners  were  up- 
held chiefly  by  the  feeling  that  they  were  drawn  to- 
gether from  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  were  taking 
an  honored  part  in  a  great  industrial  and  peaceful 
pageant,  whose  results  would  be  important  to  the 
country  and  to  mankind  at  large. 

The  Journal  tells  in  February  of  the  "opening  of 
the  colored  people's  department;  very  interesting.  A 
numerous  assemblage  of  them  showed  a  wide  range 
of  types.  Music,  military,  drumming  especially  good. 
Saw  in  their  exhibit  a  portrait  of  John  A.  Andrew 
which  looked  like  a  greeting  from  the  old  heroic 
time." 

The  Woman's  Department  was  formally  opened  on 
March  3,  though  it  had  really  been  open  to  the  public 
since  early  January.  The  day  was  one  of  the  gayest 
in  the  history  of  the  Exposition.  The  gallery  of  the 
Government  Building  was  bright  with  flowers  and  gay 


106  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

with  flags.  Admiral  Jouett  had  sent  the  ship's  band 
as  a  special  compliment;  the  music  was  delightful, 
the  speeches  excellent.  We  quote  from  Mrs.  Howe's 
address :  — 

"I  wish  to  speak  of  the  importance,  in  an  industrial 
point  of  view,  of  a  distinct  showing  of  women's  work 
in  the  great  industrial  exhibits.  There  are  few  manu- 
factures in  which  the  hand  and  brain  of  woman  have 
not  their  appointed  part.  So  long,  however,  as  this 
work  is  shown  merely  in  conjunction  with  that  of  men, 
it  is  dimly  recognized,  and  makes  no  distinct  impres- 
sion. The  world  remains  very  imperfectly  educated 
concerning  its  women.  They  are  liable  to  be  regarded 
as  a  non-producing  class,  supported  by  those  to  whom, 
in  the  order  of  nature,  their  life  is  a  necessary  condition 
of  existence  itself.  .  .  .  Exhibits  like  the  present,  then, 
are  useful  in  summing  up  much  of  this  undervalued 
work  of  women.  A  greater  moral  use  they  have  in 
raising  the  standard  of  usefulness  and  activity  for 
the  sex  in  general.  Good  work,  when  recognized,  acts 
as  a  spur  to  human  energy.  Those  who  show  how 
women  can  excel  are  examples  to  shame  those  who 
do  not  try.  They  lay  upon  their  sex  an  obligation  to 
stronger  endeavor  and  better  action,  and  society  gains 
thereby. 

"Still  more  have  I  at  heart  the  association,  in  these 
enterprises,  of  women  who  are  not  bound  to  each  other 
by  alliance  of  blood,  or  affinity  of  neighborhood. 
Greater  and  more  important  than  the  acquisition  of 
skill  is  the  cultivation  of  public  spirit.  'Pro  bono  pub- 
lico* is  a  motto  whose  meaning  men  should  learn  from 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION     107 

their  infancy,  and  at  their  firesides.  How  shall  they 
learn  it  unless  the  women,  the  guardian  spirits  of  the 
household,  shall  hold  and  teach,  beyond  all  other  doc- 
trines, that  of  devotion  and  loyalty  to  the  public  good? 

"I  value,  then,  for  the  sake  of  both  men  and  women, 
the  disinterested  association  of  women  for  the  pro- 
motion of  the  great  interests  of  society.  .  .  . 

"You  were  stirred  the  other  day  by  the  bringing 
back  of  a  battle-flag  whose  rents  had  been  carefully 
mended.  I  tell  you,  sisters,  we  have  all  one  flag  now, 
broad  and  bright  enough  to  cover  us  all.  Let  us  see 
that  no  rent  is  made  in  it. 

"All  that  the  best  and  wisest  men  can  imagine  for 
the  good  of  the  human  race  can  be  wrought  if  the  best 
women  will  only  help  the  best  men." 

One  of  her  most  arduous  tasks  was  the  arranging 
of  a  course  of  twenty-four  "Twelve-o'Clock  Talks," 
which  were  given  every  Saturday  from  the  middle 
of  February  till  the  close  of  the  Exposition.  How  she 
labored  over  them  her  companion  daughter  well  re- 
members: remembers  too  what  success  crowned  the 
effort.  The  subjects  varied  widely.  Captain  Bedford 
Pym,  R.N.,  discoursed  on  Arctic  explorations;  Charles 
Dudley  Warner  told  the  story  of  the  Elmira  Reforma- 
tory; the  Japanese  Commissioner  spoke  of  woman's 
work  in  Japanese  literature.  These  talks  were  free  to 
the  public,  and  proved  so  popular  that  eight  years 
later  the  same  plan  was  carried  out  in  the  Woman's 
Department  of  the  Chicago  World's  Fair,  and  again 
proved  its  excellence  and  value. 


108  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

As  if  all  this  were  not  enough,  she  must  found  a 
Literary  Association  among  the  young  people  of  New 
Orleans.  She  named  them  the  Pans,  and  among  their 
number  were  several  whose  names  have  since  become 
well  known  in  literature.  Grace  King,  Elizabeth  Bis- 
land,  and  others  will  remember  those  evenings,  when 
their  bright  youth  flashed  responsive  to  the  call  of 
the  elder  woman  of  letters. 

In  all  the  stress  and  hurry,  we  find  this  entry :  — 
"My  dear  father's  birthday.  I  left  the  Exposition 
early  and  walked  to  visit  dear  Marion's  grave  in  Gi- 
rard  Street  Cemetery.  A  lovely  place  it  was.  He  is 
buried  above  ground  in  a  sort  of  edifice  formed  of  brick, 
the  rows  of  coffins  being  laid  on  stone  floors,  each 
single  one  divided  from  those  on  either  side  of  it  by 
a  stone  partition.  'Francis  Marion  Ward,  died  Sep- 
tember 3rd,  1847.'  Erected  by  William  Morse,  dear 
Marion's  friend." 

"May  16.  Gave  my  talk  to  the  colored  people,  soon 
after  two  in  the  afternoon  in  their  department.  A 
pretty  hexagonal  platform  had  been  arranged.  Be- 
hind this  was  a  fine  portrait  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  with 
a  vase  of  beautiful  flowers  [gladiolus  and  white  lilies] 
at  its  base.  I  spoke  of  Dr.  Channing,  Garrison,  Theo- 
dore Parker,  Charles  Sumner,  John  A.  Andrew,  Lucre- 
tia  Mott,  and  Wendell  Phillips,  occupying  about  an 
hour.  They  gave  me  a  fine  basket  of  flowers  and  sang 
my  'Battle  Hymn.'  Afterwards  the  Alabama  cadets 
visited  us.  We  gave  them  tea,  cake  and  biscuits  and 
I  made  a  little  speech  for  them." 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION     109 

Winter  and  spring  passed  rapidly,  each  season 
bringing  fresh  interest.  The  picturesqueness  of  New 
Orleans,  the  many  friends  she  made  among  its  people, 
the  men  and  women  gathered  from  every  corner  of 
the  world,  well  made  up  to  her  for  the  vexations  which 
inevitably  attended  her  position.  Looking  back  on 
these  days,  she  said  of  them:  "It  was  like  having  a  big, 
big  Nursery  to  administer,  with  children  good,  bad, 
and  middling.  The  good  prevailed  in  the  end,  as  it 
usually  or  always  does,  and  yet  I  used  to  say  that 
Satan  had  a  fresh  flower  for  me  every  morning,  when 
I  came  to  my  office,  and  took  account  of  the  state  of 
things." 

The  difficulties  with  which  the  unfortunate  mana- 
gers were  struggling  made  it  impossible  for  them  to 
keep  their  promises  of  financial  support  to  the  Wo- 
man's Department.  Things  went  from  bad  to  worse. 
Finally  she  realized  that  she  herself  must  find  the 
money  to  pay  the  debts  of  her  department  and  to  re- 
turn the  exhibits  to  the  various  States.  She  wrote  a 
letter  to  John  M.  Forbes,  of  Boston,  urging  him  to 
help  her  and  her  assistants  out  of  their  alarming  pre- 
dicament. Through  Mr.  Forbes,  the  Honorable  George 
F.  Hoar,  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  learned  the 
state  of  the  case.  The  sum  of  $15,000  had  been  named 
as  that  necessary  to  pay  all  just  claims  and  wind  up 
the  affairs  of  the  Department.  At  this  time  a  bill  was 
before  Congress  for  an  appropriation  to  aid  the  Exposi- 
tion. Thanks  to  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Hoar,  a  sum  of 
$15,000  was  added  to  this  bill  with  the  express  clause, 
"For  the  Relief  of  the  Woman's  Department."   The 


110  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

bill  was  passed  without  discussion.  The  news  was 
received  with  great  rejoicing  in  New  Orleans,  espe- 
cially in  the  Woman's  Department,  "  where  our  need 
was  the  sorest."  The  promise  brought  new  life  to  the 
weary  workers;  but  they  were  to  be  far  more  weary 
before  the  end.  The  Exposition  closed  on  the  last  day 
of  May.  Summer  was  upon  them;  the  Northern  wo- 
men, unused  to  the  great  heats  of  New  Orleans, 
longed  to  close  up  their  business  and  depart,  but  the 
money  had  not  come  from  Congress,  and  they  could 
not  leave  their  post.  Days  dragged  on;  days  of  torrid, 
relentless  heat.  Our  mother  must  borrow  money  for 
the  Department  here  and  there  to  bridge  over  the  gap 
between  promise  and  fulfilment.  Worn  out  by  fatigue, 
anxiety,  and  the  great  heat,  she  fell  seriously  ill.  Those 
nearest  her  begged  her  to  go  home  and  leave  to  others 
the  final  settlement  of  affairs,  but  she  would  not  hear 
of  this.  She  would  get  well :  she  must  get  well !  Rally- 
ing her  forces,  mental  and  physical,  she  did  get  well, 
though  her  illness  for  a  time  seemed  desperate. 

At  long  last,  when  June  was  nearly  half  over,  the 
money  came,  and  with  it  the  end  of  her  long  task. 
Accounts  were  audited,  checks  drawn,  exhibits  de- 
spatched; and  with  farewell  greetings  and  congratula- 
tions, "the  whole  weary  matter  ended."  Her  report  as 
President  of  the  Woman's  Department  tells  the  story: 

"The  business  of  the  Woman's  Department  having 
thus  been  brought  successfully  to  a  close,  it  only  re- 
mains for  its  President  to  resign  the  office  she  has 
filled,  with  some  pain  and  much  pleasure,  for  more 
than  six  months,  —  to  thank  the  officers  of  her  staff 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION    111 

for  their  able  and  faithful  services,  the  vice-presi- 
dents, and  the  lady  commissioners  in  general,  for  the 
friendly  support  she  has  had  from  them  almost  with- 
out exception.  .  .  . 

"The  classification  by  States  she  considers  to  have 
justified  itself,  partly  through  the  more  distinct  knowl- 
edge thus  gained  of  the  work  of  women  in  localities 
widely  distant  from  each  other,  partly  in  the  good  ac- 
quaintance and  good-will  developed  by  this  method 
of  work.  The  friendly  relations  growing  out  of  it  still 
bind  together  those  who  are  now  thousands  of  miles 
apart,  but  who,  we  may  hope,  will  ever  remain  united 
in  a  common  zeal  for  promoting  the  industrial  inter- 
ests of  women. 

"Finally,  she  would  say  that  she  considers  herself 
happy  in  having  taken  part  in  an  Exposition  of  so  high 
and  useful  a  character  as  that  which  has  latterly  made 
New  Orleans  a  centre  of  interest  in  the  civilized  world. 
She  takes  leave  with  regret  of  a  city  in  which  she  has 
enjoyed  much  friendly  intercourse  and  hospitality;  a 
city  in  whose  renewed  prosperity  she  must  hence- 
forth feel  a  deep  and  lasting  interest." 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  July  19,  1885. 
How  I  left  New  Orleans,  how  I  came  North,  how 
I  let  myself  down  here,  is  no  doubt  known  to  you  thro* 
inference.  How  hot  New  Orleans  was  before  I  left  it, 
you  cannot  know,  nor  how  sick  I  was  once  upon  a 
time,  nor  how  I  came  up  upon  iced  champagne  and 
recovered  myself,  and  became  strong  again.  Ever  since 


112  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

I  came  home,  I  have  slaved  at  my  report  of  the  Wo- 
man's Department.  Weary  pages  have  I  written.  Life 
seems  at  last  to  consist  in  putting  a  pen  into  an  ink- 
stand, and  taking  it  out  again,  scribble,  scribble, 
nibble,  nibble  (meal-times),  and  go  to  bed  between 
whiles.  .  .  . 

So  ended  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  arduous 
experiences  of  her  life.  She  always  held  in  affectionate 
remembrance  the  city  where  she  had  enjoyed  and 
suffered  so  much,  and  the  friends  she  made  there. 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  November  4,  1885. 
YOU  LITTLE  HATEFUL  THING ! 

Herewith  returned  is  the  letter  you  wrote  for.  I  had 
a  mind  to  send  it  to  you,  beast  that  you  are,  without 
one  word,  just  to  pay  you  for  that  postal.  Of  course, 
I  meant  to  write  you  immediately  afterward  in  a  sep- 
arate envelope,  telling  you  that  I  still  love  you.  But 
there!  I  reflected  that  you  could  have  a  bad  feeling  if 
you  opened  the  envelope  and  found  no  greeting  from 
me.  For  the  sake  of  posterity,  Madam,  I  declined  to 
give  you  this  bad  feeling.  I  do  also  retain  some  pro- 
prietorship in  a  certain  pair  of  eyes  which  are  like 
Sapphira's.  Oh!  I  mean  sapphires,  and  I  don't  want 
to  dim  them  with  any  tear  diamonds.  "You  flatter 
yourself,"  replies  the  Good-Natured  One,1  "to  think 
of  my  shedding  tears  about  anything  that  you  could 

1  Laura  had  once  been  told  that  she  "would  not  amount  to  much  with- 
out her  good  nature." 


THE  NEW  ORLEANS  EXPOSITION    113 

say  or  do,  or  leave  unsaid  or  undone."  Just  so.  All 
right.  I  have  got  beefsteak  for  dinner  to-day.  What 
do  you  think  of  the  weather,  and  does  your  husband 
know  when  your  blacking  is  out? 

Now,  my  sweet  darling,  your  old  Mammy  is  just 
back  from  a  tremendous  jaunt.  I  had  a  beautiful  time 
in  Iowa,  and  am  as  well  as  possible.  Only  think,  trav- 
elling and  at  work  for  one  calendar  month,  and  not  a 
finger  ache,  'cept  one  day,  when  I  had  a  slight  head- 
ache. And  I  brought  home  over  $200  earned  by  lec- 
tures. .  .  . 

To  the  same 

The  Berkeley  Nuisance,1  New  York, 
December  26,  1885. 

.  .  .  What  have  I  been  doing  for  the  last  eight  weeks? 
Never  you  mind,  my  little  dear.  Mostly  putting  a 
girdle  round  the  earth  by  correspondence,  and  some-ly 
worrying  about  my  poor  relations.  Don't  you  flatter 
yourself  that  I  ever  thought  of  you  under  this  head. 

But  the ,  and  the ,  and  the ,  taken 

together,  are  enough  to  give  one  a  turn  at  the  worry- 
cat  system.  Well  'm,  I  had  also  to  see  the  distribution 
of  the  whole  edition  of  my  New  Orleans  Report,  and 
I  can  only  compare  this  to  the  process  of  taking  down 
a  house,  and  of  sending  each  individual  brick  some- 
where, labelled  with  your  compliments;  supposing 
the  bricks  to  be  one  thousand  in  number,  it  would 
take  some  time  to  distribute  them,  Harry  Richards 
will  be  able  to  tell  you  how  much  time,  and  how  many 

1  Berkeley  Chambers,  where  she  and  Maud  spent  this  winter. 


114  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

masculine  oaths  would  go  to  each  hundred  of  the  arti- 
cles. Well,  that's  enough  about  that.  You  have  had 
one  of  my  bricks  sent  you,  and  hang  me  if  I  believe 
you  have  read  it.  Sweetison  (a  new  little  'spression 
which  I  have  this  minute  invented),  I  stayed  at  Oak 
Glen  until  Monday  last,  which  was  the  21st.  Then  I 
came  here  by  the  way  of  Boston,  and  arrove  on  Tues- 
day evening.  Our  quarters,  or  rather  eighths,  are 
small,  considering  my  papers  and  Maud's  clothes.  The 
food  is  fine,  the  style  first-rate,  the  rigs  imposing  to  a 
degree,  but,  ah!  I  kind  of  hate  it  all.  New  York  is  too 
frightfully  dirty!  and  then  so  stereotyped  and  com- 
monplace. Boston  losing  its  prestige?  Not  as  I  am  at 
present  advised.  .  .  . 


CHAPTER  V 

MORE  CHANGES 

1886-1888;  aet.  67-69 

GIULIA  ROMANA  ANAGNOS 

Giulia  Romana !  how  thy  trembling  beauty, 

That  oft  would  shudder  at  one  breath  of  praise, 

Comes  back  to  me!  before  the  trump  of  duty 
Had  marshalled  thee  in  life's  laborious  ways. 

We  used  to  wonder  at  thy  blush  in  hearing 

Thy  parents  praised.   We  now  know  what  it  meant: 

A  consciousness  of  their  gifts  reappearing 

Perchance  in  thine  —  to  consummation  blent. 

Oh,  she  was  beautiful,  beyond  all  magic 

Of  sculptor's  hand,  or  pencil  to  portray ! 
Something  angelical,  divinely  tragic, 

Tempered  the  smile  that  round  her  lips  would  play. 

Dear  first-born  daughter  of  a  hero's  heart! 

Pass  to  perfection,  all  but  perfect  here! 
We  weep  not  much,  remembering  where  thou  art, 

Yet,  child  of  Poesy!  receive  a  tear. 

T.  W.  Parsons. 

The  years  1886  and  1887  were  marked  by  two  events 
which  changed  materially  the  course  of  her  private  life: 
the  death  of  Julia,  the  beloved  eldest  daughter,  and 
the  marriage  of  Maud,  the  house-mate  and  comrade. 

During  the  winter  of  1885-86  she  made  her  head- 
quarters in  New  York.  Lecture  engagements,  confer- 
ences, and  sermons  took  her  hither  and  thither,  and 
much  of  the  time  that  should  have  been  "precious" 
was  passed  in  trains  and  boats. 

In  the  last  days  of  February,  Julia  was  stricken  with 


116  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

rheumatic  fever,  which  soon  developed  into  typhoid. 
The  weather  was  "direful:  bitter  cold  and  furious 
wind."  Our  mother  went  at  once  to  South  Boston, 
where  "arriving,  found  my  dear  child  seriously  but  not 
dangerously  ill.  Her  joy  at  my  coming  was  very 
pathetic." 

On  the  28th  she  writes :  — 

"I  cannot  be  sure  whether  it  was  on  this  day  that 
she  said  to  me:  'Mamma,  don't  you  remember  the 
dream  you  had  when  Flossy  and  I  were  little  children, 
and  you  were  in  Europe?  You  dreamed  that  you  saw 
us  in  a  boat  and  that  the  tide  was  carrying  us  away 
from  you.  Now  the  dream  has  come  true,  and  the  tide 
is  bearing  me  away  from  you.' 

"This  saying  was  very  sad  to  me;  but  my  mind  was 
possessed  with  the  determination  that  death  was  not 
to  be  thought  of." 

For  a  time  conditions  seemed  to  improve,  and  she 
hastened  to  New  York,  where  her  presence  was  impera- 
tive; but  a  telegram  summoned  her  back:  Julia  was 
not  so  well,  and  "  a  pain  as  of  death  "  fell  on  the  anxious 
mother. 

"Saw  by  Katie's  face  when  she  opened  the  door 
that  things  were  worse.  I  flew  up  the  stairs  and  found 
my  darling  little  changed,  except  that  her  breathing 
seemed  rather  worse.  She  was  so  glad  to  see  me!  .  .  . 
About  this  time  I  noticed  a  change  come  over  her 
sweet  face.  ...  I  felt,  but  would  not  believe,  that  it 
was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  Julia  was  presently  very 
happy,  with  Michael  on  one  side  of  her  and  myself  on 
the  other.    Each  of  us  held  a  hand.    She  said:  'I  am 


JULIA   ROM  AN  A  ANAGNOS 


MORE  CHANGES  117 

very  happy  now:  if  one  has  one's  parents  and  one's 
husband,  what  more  can  one  want?'  And  presently, 
'The  angels  have  charge  of  me  now,  mamma  and 
Mirny.' *  She  said  to  me :  '  What  does  the  Lord  want  to 
kill  me  for?  I  am  dying.'  I  said,  'No,  my  darling,  you 
are  going  to  get  well.'  She  said:  'Remember,  if  any- 
thing happens  to  me,  you  two  must  stay  together.'  .  .  . 
A  little  later  Michael  and  I  were  alone  with  her.  She 
began  to  wander,  and  talk  as  if  with  reference  to  her 
club  or  some  such  thing.  '  If  this  is  not  the  right  thing,' 
she  said,  'call  another  priestess';  then,  very  emphati- 
cally: 'Truth,  truth.'  These  were  her  last  words. 

"My  darling  should  have  been  forty- two  years  old 
this  day.  .  .  ." 

A  few  days  later  she  writes  to  Mary  Graves :  — 

"I  am  not  wild,  nor  melancholy,  nor  inconsolable, 
but  I  feel  as  America  might  if  some  great,  fair  State 
were  blotted  from  its  map,  leaving  only  a  void  for  the 
salt  and  bitter  sea  to  overwhelm.  I  cannot,  so  far,  get 
any  comfort  from  other  worldly  imaginings.  If  God 
says  anything  to  me  now,  he  says,  'Thou  fool.'  The 
truth  is  that  we  have  no  notion  of  the  value  and  beauty 
of  God's  gifts  until  they  are  taken  from  us.  Then  He 
may  well  say:  'Thou  fool,'  and  we  can  only  answer 
to  our  name." 

The  Journal  says :  — 

"This  is  the  last  day  of  this  sorrowful  March  which 
took  my  dear  one  from  me.  I  seem  to  myself  only  dull, 
hard,  and  confused  under  this  affliction.  I  pray  God 
to  give  me  comfort  by  raising  me  up  that  I  may  be 

1  Michael. 


118  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

nearer  to  the  higher  life  into  which  she  and  her  deai 
father  have  passed.  And  thou?  eleison.  .  .  ." 

"Have  had  an  uplifting  of  soul  to-day.  Have  writ- 
ten to  Mary  Graves:  'I  am  at  last  getting  to  stand 
where  I  can  have  some  spiritual  outlook.'  The  con- 
fusion of  '  is  not '  is  giving  place  to  the  steadfastness  of 
'is.'  Have  embodied  my  thoughts  in  a  poem  to  my 
dear  Julia  and  in  some  pages  which  I  may  read  at  the 
meeting  intended  to  commemorate  her  by  the  New 
England  Woman's  Club." 

The  Journal  of  this  spring  is  full  of  tender  allusions 
to  the  beloved  daughter.  The  dreams  of  night  often 
brought  back  the  gracious  figure;  these  visions  are 
accurately  described,  each  detail  dwelt  on  with  loving 
care. 

In  the  "Reminiscences"  she  tells  of  Julia's  conse- 
crated life,  of  her  devotion  to  her  father,  and  to  the 
blind  pupils;  describes,  too,  her  pleasure  in  speaking 
at  the  Concord  School  of  Philosophy  (where  her  "mind 
seemed  to  have  found  its  true  level")  and  in  a  Meta- 
physical Club  of  her  own  founding. 

"It  was  beautiful  to  see  her  seated  in  the  midst  of 
this  thoughtful  circle,  which  she  seemed  to  rule  with 
a  staff  of  lilies.  The  club  was  one  in  which  diversity 
of  opinion  sometimes  brought  individuals  into  sharp 
contrast  with  each  other;  but  her  gentle  government 
was  able  to  bring  harmony  out  of  discord,  and  to  sub- 
due alike  the  crudeness  of  scepticism  and  the  fierce- 
ness of  intolerance." 

In  the  "Reminiscences"  we  find  also  the  record  of 
Julia's  parting  injunction  to  her  husband:  "Be  kind 


MORE  CHANGES  119 

to  the  little  blind  children,  for  they  are  papa's  chil- 
dren." 

"These  parting  words,"  our  mother  adds,  "are  in- 
scribed on  the  wall  of  the  Kindergarten  for  the  Blind 
at  Jamaica  Plain.  Beautiful  in  life,  and  most  beautiful 
in  death,  her  sainted  memory  has  a  glory  beyond  that 
of  worldly  fame." 

She  considered  Julia  the  most  gifted  of  her  children. 
The  "  Reminiscences  "  speak  of  her  at  some  length, 
making  mention  of  her  beneficent  life,  and  of  her  pub- 
lished works,  a  volume  of  poems  entitled  "Stray 
Chords,"  and  "  Philosophise  Quaestor,"  a  slender  vol- 
ume in  which  she  described  the  Concord  School  of 
Philosophy  and  her  pleasure  therein. 

In  our  mother's  house  of  life,  each  child  had  its 
special  room,  though  no  door  was  locked  to  any.  In 
all  things  pertaining  to  philosophy,  Julia  was  her 
special  intimate.  For  help  and  sympathy  in  suffrage 
and  club  doings,  she  turned  naturally  to  Florence,  an 
ardent  worker  in  these  fields;  with  Harry  she  would 
specially  enjoy  music;  with  Laura  would  talk  of  books; 
while  Maud  was  the  "Prime  Minister"  in  social  and 
household  matters.  So,  till  the  very  last,  we  gray- 
haired  children  leaned  on  her,  clung  to  her,  as  in  the 
days  when  we  were  children  indeed. 

A  few  years  before  Julia's  death,  our  mother  wrote 
to  Mrs.  Cheney,  who  had  lost  her  only  daughter: 
"This  combat  of  the  soul  with  deadly  sorrow  is  a  sin- 
gle-handed one,  so  far  as  human  help  is  concerned.  I 
do  believe  that  God's  sweet  angels  are  with  us  when 
we  contend  against  the  extreme  of  calamity." 


120  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Heavy  as  this  affliction  was,  it  brought  none  of  the 
paralysis  of  grief  caused  by  Sammy's  death :  rather,  as 
after  the  passing  of  the  Chevalier,  she  was  urged  by 
the  thought  of  her  dead  child  to  more  and  higher 
efforts. 

In  the  quiet  of  Oak  Glen  she  wrote  this  summer  a 
careful  study  of  Dante  and  Beatrice,  for  the  Con- 
cord School  of  Philosophy.1  July  20  found  her  at 
Concord,  where  she  and  Julia  had  been  wont  to  go 
together.  She  says,  "I  cannot  think  of  the  sittings 
of  the  School  without  a  vision  of  the  rapt  expres- 
sion of  her  face  as  she  sat  and  listened  to  the  various 
speakers."  2 

Spite  of  her  grief  in  missing  this  sweet  companion- 
ship she  found  the  sessions  of  the  School  deeply  inter- 
esting. She  was  "much  more  nervous  than  usual" 
about  her  lecture;  which  "really  sounded  a  good  deal 
better  than  it  had  looked  to  me.  It  was  wonderfully 
well  received." 

We  are  told  by  the  last  living  representative  of  the 
School  of  Philosophy,  Mr.  F.  B.  Sanborn,  that  she 
was  the  most  attractive,  and  sometimes  the  most 
profound,  of  its  lecturers;  "had  the  largest  audiences, 
and  gave  the  most  pleasure;  especially  when  she 
joined  delicate  personal  criticism  or  epigrammatic  wit 
with  high  philosophy." 

The  meetings  of  the  School  were  always  a  delight 
to  her;  the  papers  written  for  it  were  among  her  most 
valuable  essays;  indeed,  we  may  look  upon  them  as 

1  This  was  a  summer  school  of  ten  years  (1879-88)  in  which  Emerson, 
Alcott,  and  W.  T.  Harris  took  part. 

2  Reminiscences,  p.  440. 


MORE  CHANGES  121 

the  flowering  of  all  her  deep  and  painful  toil  in  the 
field  of  philosophy.1 

September  finds  her  planning  an  "industrial  circle" 
in  each  State;  a  woman's  industrial  convention  here- 
after; and  attending  a  Suffrage  Convention  at  Provi- 
dence. 

"Spoke  of  the  divine  right,  not  of  kings  or  people, 
but  of  righteousness.  Spoke  of  Ouida's  article  in  the 
'North  American  Review.'  It  had  been  reported 
that  I  declined  to  answer  it.  I  said:  'You  cannot 
mend  a  stocking  which  is  all  holes.  If  you  hold  it  up 
it  will  fall  to  pieces  of  itself.' 

"In  the  afternoon  spoke  about  the  Marthas,  male 
and  female,  who  see  only  the  trouble  and  inconven- 
ience of  reform :  of  the  Marys  who  rely  upon  principle." 

After  this  we  have  "a  day  of  dreadful  hurry,  pre- 
paring to  go  West  and  also  to  shut  up  this  house.  Had 
to  work  tight  every  minute.  ..." 

This  Western  lecture  trip  was  like  many  others, 
yet  it  had  its  own  peculiar  pleasures  and  mishaps. 

"October  12.  Dunkirk,  lecture.  .  .  .  No  one  must 
know  that  I  got  off  at  the  wrong  station  —  Perrys- 
burg,  a  forlorn  hamlet.  No  train  that  would  bring  me 
to  Dunkirk  before  6.30  p.m.  Ought  to  have  arrived  at 
1.30.  Went  to  the  'hotel,'  persuaded  the  landlord  to 
lend  his  buggy  and  a  kindly  old  fellow  to  harness  his 
horses  to  it,  and  drove  twenty  miles  or  more  over  the 
mountains,  reaching  Dunkirk  by  5.10  p.m.  When  the 
buggy  was  brought  to  the  door  of  the  hotel,  I  said: 

1  These  essays  were  published  in  a  volume  entitled  7s  Polite  Society 
Polite  ? 


122  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

'How  am  I  to  get  in?'  'Take  it  slow  and  learn  to 
pedal,'  said  my  old  driver.  Presently  he  said,  'I  guess 
you  ain't  so  old  as  I  be.'  I  replied,  'I  am  pretty  well 
on  toward  seventy.'  'Well,  I  am  five  years  beyond,' 
said  he.  He  drives  an  accommodation  wagon  between 
Perrysburg  and  Versailles,  a  small  town  where  a  man 
once  wanted  to  set  up  a  mill,  and  to  buy  land  and 
water  power,  and  they  would  n't  sell  either.  Where- 
upon he  went  to  Tonawanda  and  made  the  place. 
'Guess  they'd  have  done  better  to  gin  him  the  land 
and  water,  and  to  set  up  his  mill  for  him,'  said  my 
man,  Hinds." 

On  this  trip  she  saw  the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Ken- 
tucky, taking  the  seven-mile  walk;  went  as  far  as 
Kansas  City;  was  received  everywhere  with  delight- 
ful warmth. 

To  Laura 

December  1,  1886. 
You  see,  I  was  waiting  for  the  winter  to  begin,  in 
order  to  write  you,  and  that  you  ought  to  have  known. 
But  bless  you,  in  Gardiner,  Maine,  you  don't  know 
when  real  Winter  begins,  'cause  you  have  so  much  sham 
winter.  Well,  better  late  than  never.  Here's  thanking 
you  very  much  for  the  delightful  [tea]  cozy.  Maud 
said,  "What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?"  sarcastic- 
like.  I  replied,  "  Put  it  on  my  head  "  ;  to  which  she 
inquiU  "  Most  natural  thing  for  you  to  do."  The  sight 
of  the  monogram  gave  me  real  satisfaction  and  a  sense 
of  inborn  dignity.  You  boil  down  to  your  monogram, 
after  all,  and  this  one  was  beyond  my  highest  expec- 


MORE  CHANGES  123 

tations.  I  am  only  thinking,  dear,  whether  you  would 
not  have  shown  more  respect  by  putting  the  crimson 
satin  bow  on  the  monogram  side,  and  thus,  as  it  were, 
calling  attention  to  the  distinguished  initials.  ...  I 
am  grinding  now  in  all  of  my  mills,  of  which  one  is  a 
paper  for  the  "Woman  Suffrage  Bazaar,"  which  paper 
I  am  doing  my  best  to  edit.  I  cannot  in  conscience  ask 
you  to  send  me  anything  for  its  columns,  because, 
poor  dear,  you  have  to  do  so  much  work  on  your  own 
account.  At  the  same  time,  a  trifling  overflow  into 
the  hat  would  be  very  welcome.  .  .  . 

Winter  brought  another  grave  anxiety.  Florence 
in  her  turn  developed  rheumatic  fever  and  became 
alarmingly  ill.  The  mother-bird  flew  to  her  in  terror. 
On  the  way  she  met  Henry  Ward  Beecher  and  told 
him  of  her  deep  distress,  made  still  more  poignant  by 
the  thought  of  the  little  children  who  might  be  left 
motherless.  She  was  scarcely  comforted  by  his  assur- 
ance that  he  "had  known  stepmothers  who  were  very 
good  to  their  stepchildren"! 

It  was  Christmas  time,  and  she  divided  her  time 
between  the  beloved  patient  and  the  children  who 
must  not  lack  their  holiday  cheer. 

"December  27.  The  day  was  a  very  distressing  one 
to  me.  I  sat  much  of  the  time  beside  Flossy  with  a 
strange  feeling  that  I  could  keep  her  alive  by  some 
effort  of  my  will.  I  seemed  to  contend  with  God,  say- 
ing, 'I  gave  up  Julia,  I  can't  give  up  Flossy  —  she  has 
children.'  .  .  ." 

"December  28.   Most  of  the  day  with  dear  Flossy, 


124  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

who  seems  a  little  better.  I  sat  up  with  her  until  1.30 
a.m.,  and  made  a  great  effort  of  will  to  put  her  to 
sleep.  I  succeeded  —  she  slept  well  for  more  than  an 
hour  and  slept  again  for  a  good  while  without  any 
narcotic." 

Throughout  the  illness  she  fought  against  the  use 
of  narcotics. 

The  cloud  of  danger  and  anxiety  passed,  and  the 
year  closed  in  happiness  and  deep  thankfulness.  The 
last  entry  reads :  — 

"God  bless  all  my  dear  people,  sisters,  children, 
grandchildren,  and  cousins.  God  grant  me  also  to  serve 
while  I  live,  and  not  to  fail  of  the  high  and  holy  life. 
Amen!" 

To  Laura 

Monday,  January  31, 1887. 

Now,  you  just  look  here. 

Daughter  began  her  school  and  music  to-day.  No- 
body's  a-neglecting  of  her.  What  you  mean?  Grand- 
ma took  her  to  Clarke  church,  prouder  than  a  pea- 
cock, —  Grandma,  I  mean. 

Congregation  inquit:  "Whose  child  is  that?" 

"Laura's,"  responsa  sum. 

"Id  cogitavi"  was  the  general  answer.  And  she's 
pop'lar,  she  is.  Little  fourteen-year-olds  keep  a-com- 
ing  and  a-coming.  And  I  draws  her  bath,  and  tucks  her 
up  in  bed.  And  she's  having  a  splendid  time.  And 
I  want  some  more  of  this  paper.  And  my  feelings 
won't  allow  me  to  say  any  more.  No  —  my  dearest 
sweetest  pug  pie,  your  darling  won't  be  forgotten  for  a 


MORE  CHANGES  125 

moment.   We  could  n't  get  at  the  lessons  before,  and 
last  week,  like  strong  drink,  was  raging. 
'Fectionate 

Ma. 

Maud  was  now  engaged  to  John  Elliott,  a  young 
Scottish  painter,  whose  acquaintance  they  had  made 
in  Europe  in  1878.  The  marriage  took  place  on  Feb- 
ruary 7,  1887.  Though  there  were  many  periods  of 
separation,  the  Elliotts,  when  in  this  country,  made 
their  home  for  the  most  part  with  our  mother.  The 
affection  between  her  and  her  son-in-law  was  deep; 
his  devotion  to  her  constant.  Through  the  years  that 
were  to  follow,  the  comradeship  of  the  three  was  hardly 
less  intimate  than  that  of  the  two  had  been. 

The  Journal  carries  us  swiftly  onward.  In  place  of 
the  long  meditations  on  philosophy  and  metaphysics, 
we  have  brief  notes  of  comings  and  goings,  of  speaking 
and  preaching,  writing  and  reading.  She  works  hard 
to  finish  her  paper  on  "Women  in  the  Three  Profes- 
sions, Law,  Medicine,  and  Theology,"  for  the  "Chau- 
tauquan."   "Very  tired  afterwards." 

She  speaks  at  the  Newport  Opera  House  with  Mrs. 
Livermore  (who  said  she  did  not  know  Mrs.  Howe 
could  speak  so  well);  she  takes  part  in  the  Authors' 
Reading  for  the  Longfellow  Memorial  in  the  Boston 
Museum,  reciting  "Our  Orders"  and  the  "Battle 
Hymn,"  with  her  lines  to Longfellowrecently  composed. 
"I  wore  my  velvet  gown,  my  mother's  lace,  Uncle 
Sam's  Saint  Esprit,  and  did  my  best,  as  did  all  the 
others." 


126  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

The  next  day  she  speaks  at  a  suffrage  meeting  in 
Providence,  and  makes  this  comment:  — 

"Woman  suffrage  represents  individual  right,  inte- 
gral humanity,  ideal  justice.  I  spoke  of  the  attitude 
and  action  of  Minerva  in  the  '  Eumenides ' ; !  her  re- 
sistance to  the  Furies,  who  I  said  personified  popular 
passion  fortified  by  ancient  tradition;  her  firm  stand 
for  a  just  trial,  and  her  casting  the  decisive  ballot.  I 
hoped  that  this  would  prefigure  a  great  life-drama  in 
which  this  gracious  prophecy  would  be  realized." 

In  a  "good  talk  with  Miss  Eddy,"2  she  devises  a 
correspondence  and  circular  to  obtain  information 
concerning  art  clubs  throughout  the  country.  "I  am 
to  draft  the  circular." 

She  makes  an  address  at  the  Unitarian  Club  in 
Providence. 

"The  keynote  to  this  was  given  me  yesterday,  by 
the  sight  of  the  people  who  thronged  the  popular 
churches,  attracted,  in  a  great  measure  no  doubt,  by 
the  Easter  decoration  and  music.  I  thought :  '  What  a 
pity  that  everybody  cannot  hear  Phillips  Brooks.'  I 
also  thought : '  They  can  all  hear  the  lesson  of  heavenly 
truth  in  the  great  Church  of  All  Souls  and  of  All 
Saints;  there  is  room  enough  and  to  spare.'  " 

She  writes  a  poem  for  the  Blind  Kindergarten  at 
Jamaica  Plain. 

"I  worked  at  my  poem  until  the  last  moment  and 
even  changed  it  from  the  manuscript  as  I  recited  it. 
The  occasion  was  most  interesting.    Sam  Eliot  pre- 

1  Cf.  ^schylus. 

2  Miss  Sarah  J.  Eddy,  then  of  Providence,  a  granddaughter  of  Francis 
Jackson. 


MORE  CHANGES  127 

sided,  and  made  a  fine  opening  address,  in  which  he 
spoke  beautifully  of  dear  Julia  and  her  service  to  the 
blind;  also  of  her  father.  I  was  joined  by  Drs.  Pea- 
body  and  Bartol,  Brooke  Herford  and  Phillips  Brooks. 
They  all  spoke  delightfully  and  were  delightful  to  be 
with.  I  recited  my  poem  as  well  as  I  could.  I  think  it 
was  well  liked,  and  I  was  glad  of  the  work  I  bestowed 
on  it." 

She  preaches  at  Parker  Fraternity  1  on  "The  Ig- 
norant Classes." 

Small  wonder  that  at  the  Club  Tea  she  finds  herself 
"not  over-bright."  Still,  she  had  a  "flash  or  two.  The 
state  of  Karma  [calmer],  orchestral  conversation,  and 
solo  speaking." 

She  hears  the  Reverend  William  Rounceville  Alger's 
paper  on  the  "Blessed  Life."  "Very  spiritual  and  in 
a  way  edifying;  but  marred  by  what  I  should  call 
'mixed  metaphysic.'  One  goes  beyond  his  paper  to  feel 
a  deep  sympathy  with  him,  a  man  of  intense  intellec- 
tual impulse,  in  following  which  he  undergoes  a  sort 
of  martyrdom ;  while  yet  he  does  not  seem  to  me  to  hit 
the  plain,  practical  truth  so  much  as  one  might  wish. 
He  is  an  estray  between  Western  and  Eastern  thought, 
inclining  a  good  deal,  though  not  exclusively,  to  the 
latter." 

She  goes  to  conferences  of  women  preachers,  to 
peace  meetings;  to  jubilee  meetings,  in  honor  of  Queen 
Victoria;  she  conducts  services  at  the  Home  for  In- 
temperate Women,  and  thinks  it  was  a  good  time. 

She  "bites  into"  her  paper  on  Aristophanes,  "with 

1  Boston. 


128  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

a  very  aching  head";  finishes  it,  delivers  it  at  Concord 
before  the  School  of  Philosophy. 

"Before  I  began,  I  sent  this  one  word  to  Davidson,1 
eleison.  This  because  it  seemed  as  if  he  might  resent 
my  assuming  to  speak  at  all  of  the  great  comedian. 
He  seemed,  however,  to  like  what  I  said,  and  in  the 
discussion  which  followed,  he  took  part  with  me, 
against  Sanborn,  who  accuses  Aristophanes  of  having 
always  lent  his  wit  to  the  service  of  the  old  aristo- 
cratic party.  Returned  to  Boston  and  took  train  for 
Weirs,  New  Hampshire,  where  arrived  more  dead  than 
alive." 

She  is  at  Newport  now,  and  there  are  tender  notes 
of  pleasure  with  the  Hall  grandchildren,  of  "reading 
and  prayers"  with  them  on  Sunday,  of  picnics  and 
sailing  parties. 

Still,  in  dreams,  she  calls  back  the  lost  daughter; 
still  records  with  anxious  care  each  visionary  word  and 
gesture. 

"Dreamed  this  morning  of  Charles  Sumner  and 
dearest  Julia.  She  was  talking  to  me;  part  of  the  time 
reclining  on  a  sort  of  lounge.  I  said  to  some  one,  'This 
is  our  own  dear  Julia,  feel  how  warm  she  is.'  ...  I 
think  I  said  something  about  our  wanting  to  see  her 
of tener.  She  said  pathetically, '  Can't  you  talk  of  me? ' 
I  said,  'We  do,  darling.'  'Not  very  often,'  I  think  was 
her  reply.  Then  she  seemed  to  come  very  near  me,  and 
I  said  to  her,  'Darling,  do  they  let  you  come  here  as 
often  as  you  want  to?'  She  said,  'Not  quite.'  I  asked 

1  Thomas  Davidson,  founder  of  the  "New  Fellowship"  (London  and 
New  York)  and  of  the  "Breadwinners'  College." 


MORE  CHANGES  129 

why,  and  she  answered  almost  inaudibly,  'They  are 
afraid  of  my  troubling  people.'  I  stirred  and  woke; 
but  the  dear  vision  remains  with  me,  almost  calling 
me  across  the  silent  sea." 

She  writes  innumerable  letters;  date  and  address  of 
each  is  carefully  noted,  and  now  and  then  an  abstract 
of  her  words. 

"The  bane  of  all  representative  action  is  that  the 
spur  of  personal  ambition  will  carry  people  further 
than  larger  and  more  generous  considerations  of  good 
are  apt  to  do.  So  the  mean-hearted  and  ambitious  are 
always  forward  in  politics;  while  those  who  believe 
in  great  principles  are  perhaps  too  much  inclined  to  let 
the  principles  do  all  the  work.  .  .  ." 

The  following  extracts  hurry  the  year  to  its  close :  — 

"November  7.  Left  for  Boston  by  10.20  a.m.  train, 
to  attend  the  celebration  of  Michael's  [Anagnos]  fif- 
tieth birthday  at  the  Institution,  and  the  opening 
meeting  of  the  N.E.W.C.  .  .  .  Arriving  in  Boston, 
I  ran  about  somewhat,  fatiguing  myself  dreadfully. 
Reached  the  Institution  by  4.30  p.m.,  when,  throw- 
ing myself  on  the  bed  for  necessary  rest,  the  desired 
rhymes  for  Anagnos's  birthday  flashed  upon  me,  '  all 
of  a  sudden,'  and  instead  of  napping,  I  called  for  pen 
and  ink  and  wrote  them.  The  meeting  was  very  good; 
I  presided.  Dwight  and  Rodocanachi  made  speeches, 
the  latter  presenting  the  beautiful  chain  given  to 
Michael  by  the  teachers  of  the  Institution.  Michael 
was  much  moved  and  could  not  but  be  much  grati- 
fied.   I  proposed  three  cheers  at  the  end." 

"I  stole  half  an  hour  to  attend  a  meeting  in  memory 


130  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

of  Hannah  Stephenson  [the  friend  and  house-mate  of 
Theodore  Parker]  of  whom  much  good  was  said  that 
I  did  not  know  of.  I  reproached  myself  for  having  al- 
ways been  repelled  by  her  ugliness  of  countenance  and 
tart  manner,  and  having  thus  failed  to  come  within  the 
sphere  of  her  really  noble  influence.  The  occasion  re- 
called a  whole  vision  of  the  early  and  painful  struggle 
in  Boston;  of  the  martyrdom  of  feeling  endured  by 
friends  of  the  slave  —  of  Parker's  heroic  house  and  pul- 
pit. It  seemed,  as  it  often  does,  great  to  have  known 
these  things,  little  to  have  done  so  little  in  conse- 
quence." 

"November  27.  Finished  my  lecture  on  'Woman  in 
the  Greek  Drama.'  It  was  high  time,  as  my  head  and 
eyes  are  tired  with  the  persistent  strain.  .  .  .  All  the 
past  week  has  been  hard  work.  No  pleasure  reading 
except  a  very  little  in  the  evening." 

"December  1.  .  .  .  Took  2.30  train  for  Melrose.  .  .  . 
I  read  my  new  lecture  —  '  Woman  as  shown  by  the 
Greek  Dramatists ' :  of  whom  I  quoted  from  ^Eschylus, 
Sophocles,  and  Aristophanes.  A  Club  Tea  followed: 
a  pleasant  one.  I  asked  the  mothers  present  whether 
they  educated  their  daughters  in  hygiene  and  house- 
keeping. The  response  was  not  enthusiastic,  and  peo- 
ple were  more  disposed  to  talk  of  the  outer  world, 
careers  of  women,  business  or  profession,  than  to 
speak  of  the  home  business.  One  young  girl,  how- 
ever, told  us  that  she  was  a  housekeeping  girl;  a  very 
pleasant  lady,  Mrs.  Burr,  had  been  trained  by  her 
mother,  to  her  own  great  advantage." 

"December  18.    For  the  [Parker]  Fraternity  a  text 


MORE  CHANGES  131 

occurs  to  me,  'Upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church.' 
Will  speak  of  the  simple  religious  element  in  human 
nature,  the  loss  of  which  no  critical  skill  or  insight 
could  replace.  Will  quote  some  of  the  acts  and  expres- 
sions of  the  true  religious  zeal  of  other  days,  and  ask 
why  this  means  nothing  for  us  of  to-day." 

Her  first  act  of  1888  was  to  preach  this  sermon  before 
the  Parker  Fraternity.  It  was  one  of  those  best  liked 
by  herself  and  others. 

The  great  event  of  this  year  was  her  visit  to  Cali- 
fornia. She  had  never  seen  the  Pacific  Coast;  the  El- 
liotts were  going  to  Chicago  for  an  indefinite  stay;  her 
sister  Annie,  whom  she  had  not  seen  in  many  years, 
begged  earnestly  for  a  visit  from  the  "Old  Bird." 

She  decided  to  make  the  journey,  and  arranged  a 
lecture  tour  to  cover  its  expenses. 

The  expedition  was  throughout  one  of  deepest  in- 
terest. It  began  with  "a  day  of  frightful  hurry  and 
fatigue.  I  had  been  preparing  for  this  departure  for 
some  time  past;  yet  when  the  time  came,  it  seemed  as 
if  I  could  hardly  get  off.  Maud  worked  hard  to  help 
me.  She  insisted  upon  arranging  matters  for  me;  went 
to  the  bank;  got  my  ticket.  We  parted  cheerfully, 
yet  I  felt  the  wrench.  God  knows  whether  she  will 
ever  be  in  my  house  again,  as  my  partner  in  care  and 
responsibility.  .  .  ." 

After  an  "A.A.W."  conference  in  Boston,  and  a 
Woman's  Council  in  Washington,  she  took  the  road. 
Her  first  stop  was  at  Chicago.  Here  she  was  "very 
busy  and  not  quite  well.  Divided  the  day  between 
Maud  and  some  necessary  business.  At  3.15  p.m.  the 


132  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

dreadful  wrench  took  place.    Maud  was  very  brave, 
but  I  know  that  she  felt  it  as  I  did.  .  .  ." 

To  Maud 

Merchants'  Hotel, 
St.  Paul,  Minnesota,  April  10. 

So  far,  so  good,  my  dear  sweet  child.  I  got  me  off 
as  well  as  possible,  though  we  had  many  complica- 
tions and  delays  as  to  the  ticket.  My  section  was  very 
comfortable.  I  had  supper  in  the  dining-car,  and  slept 
well,  no  theatre-troupe  nor  D.  T.  being  aboard.  I 
have  now  got  my  ticket  all  straight  to  'Frisco,  and 
won't  I  frisk  oh!  when  I  get  there! 

The  next  stop  was  at  Spokane  Falls.  Here  she  had 
"a  bronchial  attack;  very  hoarse  and  sore  in  my  throat 
and  chest.  Went  over  my  lecture  carefully,  leaving 
out  some  pages.  Felt  absolute  need  of  tea-stimulant, 
and  went  downtown,  finding  some  in  a  grocer's  shop. 
The  good  servant  Dora  made  me  a  hot  cup  which 
refreshed  me  greatly.  Very  hoarse  at  my  lecture. 
Opera  House  a  good  one  enough;  for  a  desk,  a  box 
mounted  on  a  barrel,  all  covered  with  a  colored  pa- 
per; decent  enough.  Lecture:  'Polite  Society';  well 
received."  The  Spokane  of  to-day  may  smile  at  the 
small  things  of  yesterday;  yet  our  mother  always 
spoke  with  pleasure  of  her  cordial  reception  there. 

Walla  Walla,  Walula,  Paser.  In  the  last-named 
place  she  "found  a  tavern  with  many  claimants  for 
beds.  Mrs.  Isaacs,  who  came  with  me  from  Walla 
Walla  for  a  little  change  of  air,  could  not  have  a  sep- 


MORE  CHANGES  133 

arate  room,  and  we  were  glad  to  share  not  only  a  small 
room  but  also  a  three-quarters  bed.  I  was  cramped 
and  slept  miserably.  She  was  very  quiet  and  amiable." 

At  Tacoma  again  (on  the  way  whither  she  felt  as  if 
her  life  hung  by  a  thread  while  crossing  the  Notch), 
there  was  but  one  room  for  the  two  ladies,  but  they 
occupied  it  "very  peacefully." 

After  church  at  Tacoma  "we  heard  singing  in  one  of 
the  parlors,  and  went  in  quest  of  it.  In  the  great  par- 
lor of  the  hotel  where  hops  take  place,  we  found  an 
assemblage  of  men  and  women,  mostly  young,  sing- 
ing Gospel  hymns,  with  an  accompaniment  of  grand 
piano.  The  Bishop  of  New  Zealand  stood  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  apartment  singing  with  gusto.  Presently  he 
took  his  place  at  the  instrument,  his  wife  joining  him  as 
if  she  thought  his  situation  dangerous  for  a  'lone  hand.' 
A  little  later,  some  one,  who  appeared  to  act  as  master 
of  ceremonies,  asked  me  to  come  over  and  be  intro- 
duced to  the  Bishop,  to  which  I  consented.  His  first 
question  was:  'Are  you  going  to  New  Zealand  imme- 
diately?' He  is  a  Londoner.  'Ah,  come;  with  all 
your  States,  you  can  show  nothing  like  London.'  Being 
asked  for  a  brief  address,  he  spoke  very  readily,  with 
a  frank,  honest  face,  and  in  a  genial,  offhand  manner. 
A  good  specimen  of  his  sort,  not  fine-brained,  nor 
over-brained,  but  believing  in  religion  and  glad  to 
devote  his  life  to  it.  The  Bishop  has  blue  eyes  and  a 
shaggy  head  of  grizzled  hair." 

After  Tacoma  came  "hospitable  Seattle";  where  she 
lectured  and  attended  a  meeting  of  the  Seattle  Emer- 
son Club ;  then  to  Olympia,  by  a  small  Sound  steamer. 


134  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"A  queer  old  bachelor  on  board,  hearing  me  say 
that  I  should  like  to  live  in  Washington  Territory,  said 
he  would  give  me  a  handsome  house  and  lot  if  I  would 
live  in  Olympia,  at  which  several  Olympians  present 
laughed." 

She  left  Olympia  by  train,  en  route  for  Portland. 
The  conductor,  "Brown  by  name,"  saw  the  name  on 
her  valise,  and  claimed  acquaintance,  remembering 
her  when  she  lived  in  Boylston  Place.  Soon  after, 
passing  a  lovely  little  mill-stream,  with  a  few  houses 
near  it,  by  name  Tumwater,  she  consulted  him  as  to 
the  value  of  land  there,  with  the  result  that  she  bought 
several  acres  of  "good  bottom  land." 

This  was  one  of  several  small  purchases  of  land  made 
during  her  various  journeyings.  She  always  hoped 
that  they  would  bring  about  large  results:  the  Tum- 
water property  was  specially  valued  by  her,  though 
she  never  set  foot  in  the  place.  The  pioneer  was  strong 
in  her,  as  it  was  in  the  Doctor;  the  romance  of  travel 
never  failed  to  thrill  her.  Speeding  hither  and  thither 
by  rail,  her  eye  caught  beauty  and  desirableness  in  a 
flash;  the  settler  stirred  in  her  blood,  and  she  longed  to 
possess  and  to  develop.  Tumwater  she  fondly  hoped 
was  to  bring  wealth  to  the  two  eldest  grandchildren, 
to  whom  she  bequeathed  it. 

In  Portland  she  spent  several  days,  lectured  three 
times,  and  was  most  hospitably  entertained.  On  her 
one  disengaged  evening  she  went  down  into  the  hotel 
parlor,  played  for  the  guests  to  dance,  played  accom- 
paniments for  them  to  sing.  She  spoke  to  the  school 
children;  " she  made  slight  acquaintance  with  various 


MORE  CHANGES  135 

people,"  most  of  whom  told  her  the  story  of  their 
lives.   Briefly,  she  touched  life  at  every  point. 

Finally,  on  May  5,  she  reached  San  Francisco,  and  a 
few  hours  later  the  ranch  of  San  Geronimo,  where  the 
Mailliards  had  been  living  for  some  years. 

"Situation  very  beautiful,"  she  says;  "a  cup  in 
the  mountains."  Here  she  found  her  beloved  sister 
Annie,  the  "little  Hitter"  of  her  early  letters;  here 
she  spent  happy  days,  warm  with  outer  and  inner 
sunshine. 

California  was  a-tiptoe  with  eagerness  to  see  and 
hear  the  author  of  the  "Battle  Hymn";  many  lectures 
were  planned,  in  San  Francisco  and  elsewhere.  The 
Journal  gives  but  brief  glimpses  of  this  California  visit, 
which  she  always  recalled  with  delight  as  one  of  the 
best  of  all  her  "great  good  times."  In  the  newspaper 
clippings,  preserved  in  a  scrapbook,  we  find  the  adjec- 
tives piled  mountain  high  in  praise  and  appreciation. 
Though  not  yet  seventy,  she  was  already,  in  the  eye 
of  the  youthful  reporter,  "aged";  her  silver  hair  was 
dwelt  on  lovingly;  people  were  amazed  at  her  activ- 
ity. One  of  the  great  occasions  was  the  celebration 
of  Decoration  Day  by  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Repub- 
lic in  the  Grand  Opera  House,  at  which  she  was  the 
guest  of  honor.  The  house  was  packed;  the  stage 
brilliant  with  flowers  and  emblems.  Her  name  was 
cheered  to  the  echo.  She  spoke  a  few  words  of  ac- 
knowledgment. 

"I  join  in  this  celebration  with  thrilled  and  uplifted 
heart.  I  remember  those  camp-fires,  I  remember  those 
dreadful  battles.    It  was  a  question  with  us  women, 


136  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

'Will  our  men  prevail?  Until  they  do  they  will  not 
come  home.'  How  we  blessed  them  when  they  did; 
how  we  blessed  them  with  our  prayers  when  they  were 
in  the  battlefield.  Those  were  times  of  sorrow;  this 
is  one  of  joy.  Let  us  thank  God,  who  has  given  us 
these  victories." 

The  audience  rose  en  masse,  and  stood  while  the 
"Battle  Hymn"  was  sung,  author  and  audience  join- 
ing in  the  chorus. 

After  her  second  lecture  in  Santa  Barbara,  she 
"sauntered  a  little,  and  spent  a  little  money.  Bought 
some  imperfect  pearls  which  will  look  well  when  set. 
Wanted  a  handsome  brooch  which  I  saw;  thought  I 
had  best  conquer  my  desire,  and  did  so." 

At  Ventura:  "Got  so  tired  that  I  could  hardly  dress 
for  lecture."  The  next  day  she  proposed  to  Mrs.  S. 
at  dinner  (1  p.m.)  to  invite  some  young  people  for  the 
evening,  promising  to  play  for  them  to  dance.  "She 
[Mrs.  S.]  ordered  a  buggy  and  drove  about  the  village. 
Her  son  stretched  a  burlap  on  the  straw  matting  and 
waxed  it.  About  thirty  came.  We  had  some  sweet 
music,  singers  with  good  voices,  and  among  others  a 
pupil  of  Perabo,  who  was  really  interesting  and  re- 
markable." 

At  one  of  the  hospitable  cities,  a  gentleman  asked 
her  to  drive  with  him,  drove  her  about  for  a  couple 
of  hours,  descanting  upon  the  beauties  of  the  place, 
and  afterwards  proclaimed  that  Mrs.  Howe  was  the 
most  agreeable  woman  he  had  ever  met.  "And  I  never 
once  opened  my  lips!"  she  said. 

On  June  10  she  preached  in  Oakland:  "the  one  ser- 


MORE  CHANGES  137 

mon  which  I  have  felt  like  preaching  in  these  parts: 
'Thou  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  rock.'  The  house  was 
well  filled.  .  .  .  After  service  as  I  leaned  over  to  speak 
to  those  who  stopped  to  greet  me,  I  saw  one  of  our 
old  church-members,  who  told  me,  with  eyes  full  of 
tears,  that  our  dear  James  Freeman  Clarke  is  no 
more.  This  was  like  an  ice-bolt;  I  could  not  realize  it 
at  first. 

"  'A  very  tender  history- 
Did  in  your  passing  fall.' 

"Years  of  sweet  converse,  of  following  and  depend- 
ence, end  with  this  event." 

So  we  come  to  the  last  day  at  the  ranch,  the  parting 
with  the  dear  sister;  the  departure  for  San  Francisco, 
laden  with  roses  and  good  wishes. 

On  the  way  eastward  she  stopped  at  Salt  Lake  City, 
and  went  to  the  Mormon  Tabernacle;  "an  enormous 
building  with  a  roof  like  the  back  of  a  turtle;  many 
tourists  present.  The  Mormons  mostly  an  ill-looking 
and  ill-smelling  crowd.  Bishop  Whitney,  a  young  man, 
preached  a  cosmopolite  sermon,  quoting  Milton  and 
Emerson.  He  spoke  of  the  Christian  Church  with  pat- 
ronizing indulgence;  insisted  upon  the  doctrine  of 
immediate  and  personal  revelation,  and  censured  the 
Mormons  for  sometimes  considering  their  families  be- 
fore their  church.  Communion,  bread  in  silver  baskets 
and  water  in  silver  cups,  handed  to  every  one,  chil- 
dren partaking  with  the  rest;  no  solemnity." 

"June  26.  To  visit  the  penitentiary,  where  thirty 
Mormon  bishops  are  imprisoned  for  polygamy.  Spoke 


138  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

with  one,  Bishop  of  Provo,  a  rather  canny-looking 
man,  whom  we  found  in  the  prison  library,  reading. 
The  librarian  (four  years'  term  for  forgery)  told  me  it 
was  the  result  of  liquor  and  bad  company.  I  said  a 
few  motherly  words  to  him  and  presently  proposed 
to  speak  to  the  prisoners,  to  which  the  jailer  gladly 
assented.  I  began  by  saying,  'I  feel  to  speak  to  you, 
my  brothers.'  Said  that  all  of  us  make  mistakes  and 
many  of  us  do  wrong  at  times.  Exhorted  them  to 
give,  in  future,  obedience  to  the  laws  upon  which  the 
existence  of  society  depends.  The  convict  Montrose 
sent  to  me  a  little  chain  and  ornaments  of  his  own 
making.  I  promised  to  send  one  or  two  books  for  the 
library.  ..." 

So,  through  "bowery  and  breezy  Nebraska;  such  a 
relief  to  eyes  and  nerves!"  to  Chicago,  where  Maud 
kept  and  comforted  her  as  long  as  might  be,  and  sent 
her  refreshed  on  her  way;  finally  to  Boston,  where  she 
arrived  half -starved,  and  so  to  Newport. 

To  Maud 

July  8,  1888. 

Grumble,  grumble  —  tumble,  tumble, 
For  something  to  eat, 
Fast-y  fast-y  nasty,  nasty, 
At  last,  at  last-y, 
Ma's  dead  beat! 

"  Oh!  the  dust  of  it,  and  the  swirl,  in  which  the  black 
porter  and  the  white  babies  all  seemed  mixed  up  to- 
gether. A  few  dried  and  withered  old  women,  like  my- 
self, were  thrown  in,  an  occasional  smoky  gent,  and 
the  gruel  'thick  and  slab,'  was  what  is  called  Human 


MORE  CHANGES  139 

Nature!  This  is  the  spleeny  vein,  and  I  indulge  it  to 
make  you  laugh,  but  really,  my  journey  was  as  com- 
fortable as  heat  and  speed  would  allow.  Imagine  my 
feelings  on  learning  that  there  was  no  dining  or  buffet 
car !  Do  not  grieve  about  this,  the  biscuits  and  bananas 
which  you  put  up  carried  me  quite  a  way.  We  got  a 
tolerable  breakfast  at  Cleveland,  and  a  bad  dinner  at 
Buffalo,  but  dry  your  eyes,  the  strawberry  shortcake 
was  uncommonly  good.  And  think  how  good  it  is  that 
I  have  got  through  with  it  all  and  can  now  rest  good 
and  handsome. 

The  summer  entries  in  the  Journal  are  varied  and 
picturesque.  "My  cow,  of  which  I  was  fond,  was 
found  dead  this  morning.  .  .  .  My  neighbor  Almy  was 
very  kind.  ...  I  feel  this  a  good  deal,  but  complaining 
will  not  help  matters." 

"Mr.  Bancroft  [George],  historian,  brought  Dr. 
Hedge  to  call  after  dinner.  Mr.  B.  kissed  me  on  both 
cheeks  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  We  had  a  very 
pleasant  and  rather  brilliant  talk,  as  might  have  been 
expected  where  such  men  meet." 

She  writes  to  Maud :  — 

"Mr.  Alger  seized  upon  my  left  ear  metaphorically 
and  emptied  into  it  all  the  five-syllable  words  that  he 
knew,  and  the  result  was  a  mingling  of  active  and 
passive  lunacy,  for  I  almost  went  mad  and  he  had  not 
far  to  go  in  that  direction." 

And  again;  apropos  of  :  "How  the  great 

world  does  use  up  a  man!  It  is  not  merely  the  growing 
older,  for  that  is  a  natural  and  simple  process;  but  it  is 


140  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

the  coating  of  worldliness  which  seems  to  varnish  the 
life  out  of  a  man;  dead  eyes,  dead  smile,  and  (worst 
of  all)  dead  breath." 

"September  23.  To  church  in  Newport.  A  sugges- 
tive sermon  from  Mr.  Alger  on  'Watching,'  i.e.,  upon 
all  the  agencies  that  watch  us,  children,  foes,  friends, 
critics,  authorities,  spirits,  God  himself. 

"As  we  drove  into  town  [Newport]  I  had  one  of 
those  momentary  glimpses  which  in  things  spiritual 
are  so  infinitely  precious.  The  idea  became  clear  and 
present  to  my  mind  that  God,  an  actual  presence, 
takes  note  of  our  actions  and  intentions.  I  thought 
how  helpful  it  would  be  to  us  to  pass  our  lives  in  a 
sense  of  this  divine  supervision.  After  this  inward 
experience  I  was  almost  startled  by  the  theme  of  Al- 
ger's sermon.  I  spoke  to  him  of  the  coincidence,  and 
he  said  it  must  have  been  a  thought  wave.  The  thought 
is  one  to  which  I  have  need  to  cling.  I  have  at  this 
moment  mental  troubles,  obsessions  of  imagination, 
from  which  I  pray  to  be  delivered.  While  this  idea 
of  the  divine  presence  was  clear  to  me,  I  felt  my- 
self lifted  above  these  things.  May  this  lifting  con- 
tinue." 

"November  J^.  In  my  prayer  this  morning  I  thanked 
God  that  I  have  come  to  grieve  more  over  my  moral 
disappointments  than  over  my  intellectual  ones. 
With  my  natural  talents  I  had  nothing  to  do:  with 
my  use  or  abuse  of  them,  everything. 

"I  have  thought,  too,  lately,  of  a  reason  why  we 
should  not  neglect  our  duty  to  others  for  our  real  or 
supposed  duty  to  ourselves.    It  is  this:  ourselves  we 


MORE  CHANGES  141 

have  always  with  us;  our  fellows  flit  from  our  com- 
pany, or  pass  away  and  we  must  help  them  when  and 
while  we  can." 

On  December  5  she  hears  "the  bitter  news  of  Abby 
May's  death.  Alas!  and  alas!  for  the  community,  for 
her  many  friends,  and  for  the  Club  and  the  Congress  in 
which  she  did  such  great  silent  service.  God  rest  her 
in  His  sweet  peace!  " 

On  Christmas  Day  she  went  to  "Trinity  Church, 
where  I  enjoyed  Phillips  Brooks's  sermon.  Felt  much 
drawn  to  go  to  communion  with  the  rest;  but  thought 
it  might  occasion  surprise  and  annoyance.  Going  into 
a  remote  upper  gallery  I  was  present  at  the  scene,  and 
felt  that  I  had  my  communion  without  partaking  of 
the  'elements.'  These  lines  also  suggested  themselves 
as  I  walked  home:  — 

"  The  Universal  bread, 
The  sacrificial  wine, 
The  glory  of  the  thorn-crowned  head, 
Humanity  divine." 

"  The  last  day  of  the  year  dawned  upon  me,  bringing 
solemn  thoughts  of  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  sorrow 
for  such  misuse  of  its  great  gifts  and  opportunities  as 
I  am  well  conscious  of.  This  has  been  a  good  year  to 
me.  It  carried  me  to  the  Pacific  slope,  and  showed  me 
indeed  a  land  of  promise.  It  gave  me  an  unexpected 
joy  in  the  harmonious  feelings  toward  me  and  the 
members  of  A.A.W.  at  the  Detroit  Congress.  It 
has,  alas !  taken  from  me  my  dear  pastor,  most  precious 
to  me  for  help  and  instruction,  and  other  dear  and  val- 
ued friends,  notably  Sarah  Shaw  Russell,1  Abby  W. 

1  Mrs.  George  Russell,  widow  of  the  Doctor's  friend  and  college  chum. 


142  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

May  and  Carrie  Tappan.1  I  desire  to  set  my  house  in 
order,  and  be  ready  for  my  departure;  thankful  to 
live,  or  willing  to  cease  from  my  mortal  life  when  God 
so  wills.  .  .  ." 

1  Caroline  Tappan  was  Caroline  Sturgis,  daughter  of  Captain  William 
Sturgis,  and  sister  of  Ellen  (Sturgis)  Hooper,  —  member  of  the  inmost 
Transcendentalist  circle,  and  friend  of  Emerson,  Ellery  Channing,  and 
Margaret  Fuller. 


CHAPTER   VI 

SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG 

1889-1890;  aet.  70-71 

The  seven  decades  of  my  years 

I  figure  like  those  Pleiad  spheres 

Which,  thro'  the  heaven's  soft  impulse  moved, 

Still  seek  a  sister  star  beloved. 

Thro'  many  sorrows,  more  delight, 
Thro'  miracles  in  sound  and  sight, 
Thro'  battles  lost  and  battles  won, 
These  star-spaced  years  have  led  me  on. 

Though  long  behind  me  shows  the  path. 
The  future  still  its  promise  hath, 
For  tho'  the  past  be  fair  and  fond, 
The  perfect  number  lies  beyond. 

J.  W.  H. 

She  was  dissatisfied  with  herself  in  these  days. 

"January  1,  1889.  In  my  prayer  this  night  I  asked 
for  weight  and  earnestness  of  purpose.  I  am  too  frivo- 
lous and  frisky." 

"On  waking  I  said,  'If  God  does  not  help  me  this 
day,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  finish  my  address '  [for  a 
Washington's  Birthday  celebration  at  Newport]." 

She  thinks  He  did  help  her,  as  she  found  the  vein 
of  what  she  wished  to  say,  and  finished  it  to  her 
"tolerable  satisfaction." 

"As  I  entered  the  hall  in  the  evening,  the  thought  of 
Cinderella  struck  me,  and  I  used  it  by  comparing  the 
fashion,  of  which  we  make  so  much  account,  to  Cin- 
derella with  her  rat  horses  and  pumpkin  carriage,  so 
resplendent  until  her  hour  came;  then  the  horses  would 


144  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

not  carry  her,  the  golden  coach  would  not  hold  her, 
her  illusory  grandeur  was  at  an  end.  Our  cause  of  truth 
and  justice  I  compared  to  the  Princess  in  her  enchanted 
sleep,  who  lies  spellbound  until  the  true  champion 
comes  to  rescue  her,  and  the  two  go  forth  together, 
to  return  to  sleep  and  diversion,  oh,  never  more." 

This  is  the  note  throughout  the  Journal;  the  record 
of  work,  the  prayer  for  strength.  Yet  the  friskiness  was 
there;  no  one  but  herself  would  have  had  less  of  it. 

She  had  already  entered  the  happy  estate  of  grand- 
motherhood,  and  enjoyed  it  to  the  full.  New  songs 
must  be  made  for  the  little  new  people,  new  games  in- 
vented. We  see  her  taking  a  grandchild's  hands  in 
hers,  and  improvising  thus :  — 

"  We  have  two  hands, 
To  buckle  bands! 
We  have  ten  fingers, 
To  make  clotheswringers! 
We  have  two  thumbs, 
To  pick  up  crumbs! 
We  have  two  heels, 
To  bob  for  eels! 
We  have  ten  toes, 
To  match  our  nose!" 

If  the  child  be  tired  or  fretful,  "Hush!"  says  the 
grandmother.  "Be  good,  and  I  will  play  you  the  'Ca- 
narybird's  Funeral.'  "  Off  they  go  to  the  piano,  and  the 
" Canarybird's  Funeral"  is  improvised,  and  must  be 
played  over  and  over,  for  this  and  succeeding  grand- 
children. For  them,  too,  she  composed  the  musical 
drama  of  "Flibbertigibbet,"  which  she  was  to  play 
and  recite  for  so  many  happy  children,  and  grown  folks 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  145 

too.  Flibbertigibbet  was  a  black  imp  who  appeared 
one  day  in  the  market-place,  and  playing  a  jig  on  his 
fiddle,  set  all  the  people  dancing  whether  they  would 
or  no.  She  played  the  jig,  and  one  did  not  wonder 
at  the  people.  Next  came  Flibbertigibbet's  march, 
which  he  played  on  his  way  to  prison;  his  melancholy, 
as  he  sat  in  durance;  the  cats  on  the  roof  of  his  prison; 
finally,  entrance  of  the  benevolent  fairy,  who  whisks 
him  off  in  a  balloon  to  fairyland.  All  these,  voice 
and  piano  gave  together:  nobody  who  heard  "Flib- 
bertigibbet" ever  forgot  it.  She  set  Mother  Goose 
to  music  for  the  grandchildren;  singing  of  Little  Boy 
Blue,  and  the  Man  in  the  Moon.  She  thought  these 
nursery  melodies  among  her  best  compositions;  from 
time  to  time,  however,  other  and  graver  airs  came  to 
her,  dreamed  over  the  piano  on  summer  evenings,  or  in 
twilight  walks  among  the  Newport  meadows.  Some  of 
these  airs  were  gathered  and  published  in  later  years.1 

In  May  of  this  year  she  notes  the  closing  of  a  life 
long  associated  with  hers. 

"May  21}.  Laura  Bridgman  died  to-day  at  about 
12  m.  This  event  brings  with  it  solemn  suggestions, 
which  my  overcrowded  brain  cannot  adequately  fol- 
low. Her  training  was  a  beautiful  out-blossoming  from 
the  romance  of  my  husband's  philanthropy.  She  has 
taught  a  great  lesson  in  her  time,  and  unfortunates  of 
her  sort  are  now  trained,  without  question  of  the  result. 
This  was  to  S.  G.  H.  an  undiscovered  country  in  the 
first  instance.   I  cannot  help  imagining  him  as  stand- 

1  Song  Album.  Published  by  G.  Schirmer  &  Co. 


146  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ing  before  the  face  of  the  Highest  and  pointing  to  his 
work:  happy,  thrice  happy  man,  with  all  his  sorrow!" 

The  close  of  her  seventieth  year  was  a  notable  mile- 
stone on  the  long  road.  May  found  her  still  carrying 
full  sail;  a  little  more  tired  after  each  exertion,  a  little 
puzzled  at  the  occasional  rebellion  of  "Sister  Body," 
her  hard-worked  "A.B.,";  but  not  yet  dreaming  of 
taking  in  a  reef. 

The  seventieth  birthday  was  a  great  festival.  Maud, 
inviting  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  to  the  party,  had 
written,  "Mamma  will  be  seventy  years  young  on  the 
27th.   Come  and  play  with  her!" 

The  Doctor  in  his  reply  said,  "It  is  better  to  be 
seventy  years  young  than  forty  years  old!" 

Dr.  Holmes  himself  was  now  eighty  years  old.  It 
was  in  these  days  that  she  went  with  Laura  to  call  on 
him,  and  found  him  in  his  library,  a  big,  bright  room, 
looking  out  on  the  Charles  River,  books  lining  the 
walls,  a  prevailing  impression  of  atlases  and  diction- 
aries open  on  stands.  The  greeting  between  the  two 
was  pleasant  to  see,  their  talk  something  to  remem- 
ber. "Ah,  Mrs.  Howe,"  said  the  Autocrat,  "you  at 
seventy  have  much  to  learn  about  life.  At  eighty  you 
will  find  new  vistas  opening  in  every  direction!" 

Ten  years  later  she  was  reminded  of  this.  "It  is 
true!"  she  said. 

At  parting  he  kissed  her,  which  touched  her  deeply. 

He  was  in  another  mood  when  they  met  at  a  recep^ 
tion  shortly  after  this.  "Ah!  Mrs.  Howe,"  he  said, 
"you  see  I  still  hang  on  as  one  of  the  old  wrecks!" 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  147 

"Yes,  you  are  indeed  Rex!"  was  the  reply. 

"Then,  Madam,"  he  cried  with  a  flash,  "you  are 
Regina  I " 

To  return  to  the  birthday!  Here  are  a  few  of  the 
letters  received :  — 

From  George  William  Curtis 

West  New  Brighton,  Staten  Island,  N.Y., 
May  9,  1889. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Elliott,  — 

I  shall  still  be  too  lame  to  venture  so  far  away  from 
home  as  your  kind  invitation  tempts  me  to  stray,  but 
no  words  of  my  regard  and  admiration  for  Mrs.  Howe 
will  ever  limp  and  linger.  I  doubt  if  among  the  hosts 
who  will  offer  their  homage  upon  her  accession  to  the 
years  of  a  ripe  youth  there  will  be  many  earlier  friends 
than  I,  and  certainly  there  will  be  none  who  have 
watched  her  career  with  more  sympathy  in  her  varied 
and  humane  activities.  Poet,  scholar,  philanthropist, 
and  advocate  of  true  Democracy,  her  crown  is  more 
than  triple,  and  it  is  her  praise  as  it  may  well  be 
her  pride  to  have  added  fresh  lustre  to  the  married 
name  she  bears. 

I  am  sincerely  sorry  that  only  in  this  inadequate 
way  can  I  join  my  voice  to  the  chorus  of  friendly  re- 
joicing and  congratulation  on  the  happy  day,  which 
reminds  us  only  of  the  perpetual  youth  of  the  warm 
heart  and  the  sound  mind. 

Very  truly  yours, 

George  William  Curtis. 


148  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

From  W.  W.  Story 

My  dear  Julia,  — 

(I  suppose  I  may  still  call  you  so  —  we  are  both  so 
young  and  inexperienced)  I  cannot  let  this  anniver- 
sary of  your  birth  go  by,  without  stretching  out  my 
hands  to  you  across  the  ocean,  and  throwing  to  you  all 
they  can  hold  of  good  wishes,  and  affectionate  thought, 
and  delightful  memories.  Though  years  have  gone 
by  since  I  have  seen  you,  you  are  still  fresh,  joyous, 
and  amusing,  and  charming  as  ever.  Of  this  I  am  fully 
persuaded,  and  often  I  look  into  that  anxious  mirror 
of  my  mind,  and  see  you  and  wander  with  you,  and 
jest  with  you  and  sing  with  you,  as  I  used  in  the  olden 
days ;  and  never  will  I  be  so  faithless  as  to  believe 
that  you  are  any  older  than  you  were  —  and  I  hope 
earnestly  you  are  no  wiser  and  that  a  great  deal  of 
folly  is  still  left  in  you  —  as  it  is,  I  am  happy  to  say, 
in  me. 

For,  after  all,  what  is  life  worth  when  its  folly  is  all 
departed?  When  we  have  grown  wise  and  sad  as 
well  as  old  —  it  is  time  to  say  Good-bye.  But  that 
time  has  not  come  for  us  yet.  So  let  us  still  shout 
Evviva! 

I  do  not  mention  the  fact  of  your  age,  —  I  don't 
know  it,  —  but  if  I  should  guess,  from  what  I  know 
I  should  say  twenty-five.  I  was  twenty-eight  when 
I  left  America  —  and  that  is  such  a  few  months  ago 
—  and  I  know  you  were  born  somewhat  about  the 
same  time. 

You  will  receive  a  great  many  congratulations  and 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  149 

expressions  of  friendship,  but  none  more  sincere  than 
those  of 

Your  old  friend  —  I  mean 
Your  young  friend, 

W.  W.  Story. 

Rome,  Palazzo  Barberini, 
May  10,  1889. 

From  James  Russell  Lowell 

68  Beacon  Street, 

13th  May,  1889. 

Dear  Mrs.  Howe,  — 

I  should  n't  have  suspected  it,  but  if  you  say  so,  I 
am  bound  to  believe  this  improbability,  as  absurd  as 
Leporello's  Catalogue  for  its  numerals.  If  it  be  so  —  I 
beg  pardon  —  since  it  is  so,  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
going  to  take  it  cheerfully  as  who  should  say  to  Time, 
"Another  turn  of  the  glass,  please,  my  young  friend, 
I'm  writing."  But  alas,  I  can't  be  there  to  take  a  glass 
with  you.  You  say,  "if  there  be  no  obstacle."  No 
less  than  a  couple  of  thousand  miles  of  water,  harder 
to  get  over  than  the  years  themselves,  which  indeed 
get  behind  more  swiftly  than  they  ought.  I  can  at 
least  wish  you  many  happy  returns  of  the  day  and  will 
drink  to  your  health  on  the  27th.   I  sail  on  the  18th. 

Pray  accept  my  thanks  and  regrets  and  make  them 
acceptable  to  your  children. 

Faithfully  yours, 

James  Russell  Lowell. 

The  Journal  thus  notes  the  occasion. 


150  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"My  seventieth  birthday.  A  very  busy  day  for  all 
of  us.  .  .  .  My  head  was  dressed  at  eleven.  All  my 
children  were  here,  with  daughter-  and  sons-in-law. 
I  had  many  lovely  gifts.  The  house  was  like  a  garden 
of  costly  flowers.  Breakfast  was  at  12.30;  was  in  very 
good  style.  Guests:  General  Walker,  John  S.  Dwight, 
E.  E.  Hale,  Mrs.  Jack  Gardner,  Mmes.  Bell,  Pratt, 
and  Agassiz.  Walker  made  the  first  speech  at  the 
table,  H.  M.  H.1  being  toastmaster.  Walker  seemed  to 
speak  very  feelingly,  calling  me  the  first  citizeness  of 
the  country;  stood  silent  a  little  and  sat  down.  Dwight 
read  a  delightful  poem;  Hale  left  too  soon  to  do  any- 
thing. H.  introduced  J.  S.  D.  thus:  'Sweetness  and 
light,  your  name  is  Dwight.'  While  we  sat  at  table, 
baskets  and  bouquets  of  wonderful  flowers  kept  con- 
stantly arriving;  the  sweet  granddaughters  brought 
them  in,  in  a  sort  of  procession  lovely  to  see.  It  rained 
in  the  afternoon,  but  the  house  was  thronged  with 
visitors,  all  the  same." 

A  sober  entry,  written  the  next  day,  when  she  was 
"very  tired,  with  a  delightful  fatigue":  but  on  the 
day  itself  she  was  gay,  enjoying  her  "party"  to  the 
full,  treasuring  every  flower,  wondering  why  people 
were  so  good  to  her. 

The  festivities  lasted  several  days,  for  every  one 
wanted  to  "play  Birthday"  with  her.  The  New  Eng- 
land Woman's  Club  gave  her  a  luncheon,  which  she 
valued  next  to  the  home  celebration;  the  blind  chil- 
dren of  the  Perkins  Institution  must  hear  her  speak, 
and  in  return  sing  some  of  her  songs,  and  give  her 

1  Henry  Marion  Howe. 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  151 

flowers,  clustering  round  her  with  tender,  groping  fin- 
gers that  sought  to  clasp  hers.  Moreover,  the  last  week 
of  May  is  Anniversary  Week  in  Boston.  Suffragists, 
women  ministers,  Unitarians,  "uplifters"  of  every 
description,  held  their  meetings  (traditionally  in  a 
pouring  rain)  and  one  and  all  wanted  Mrs.  Howe. 

"I  have  said  to  God  on  every  morning  of  these  busy 
days:  'Give  me  this  day,'  and  He  has  given  them  all: 
i.e.,  He  has  given  me  power  to  fulfil  the  task  appointed 
for  each." 

When  she  finally  got  to  Newport,  she  was  "dazed 
with  the  quiet  after  the  strain  of  heart  and  fatigue." 

The  ministry  was  much  in  her  mind  this  summer. 

"I  take  for  my  guidance  a  new  motto:  'I  will  as- 
cend'; not  in  my  ambition,  but  in  my  thoughts  and 
aims." 

"A  dry  Sunday,  i.e.,  no  church,  it  being  the  women's 
turn  to  go.  I  shelled  peas  for  dinner.  Began  Ram- 
baud's  'History  of  Russia.'  ...  I  think  of  two  ser- 
mons to  write,  one,  'A  spirit  of  Power';  one,  'Behold, 
I  show  you  a  more  excellent  way.'  " 

Suffrage  had  its  meed  too  in  these  summer  days. 

"Have  copied  my  Call  for  the  Congress.  In  my 
coming  suffrage  talks  will  invite  women  to  study  the 
history  of  their  sex  in  the  past,  and  its  destiny  in  the 
future;  inertia  and  ignorance  are  the  great  dangers  of 
society.  The  old  condition  of  women  largely  increased 
instead  of  diminishing  these  sources  of  evil.  The  wo- 
men were  purposely  kept  ignorant,  in  order  that  they 
might  be  enslaved  and  degraded.  Inertia  is  largely 
fostered  by  the  paralysis  of  independent  action.  .  .  ." 


152  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"I  feel  just  now  that  we  ought  to  try  hard  to  have 
all  the  Far  West  represented  at  the  Denver  Congress." 

"Thought  a  book  or  article  about  'Fooleries'  would 
be  entertaining  and  instructive.  The  need  of  this  ele- 
ment in  human  society  is  shown  by  the  ancient  jest- 
ers and  court  fools.  ...  In  Bible  times  Samson  made 
sport  for  the  Philistines.  People  now  do  their  own 
dancing  and  their  own  fooling:  some  of  it  very  dull. 
Query:  What  ancient  jests  have  been  preserved?  'The 
Fools  of  old  and  of  all  time'  would  not  be  a  bad  title." 

In  October  came  the  Woman's  Congress  in  Denver; 
she  was  there,  "attending  all  meetings  and  sessions." 

"Mrs.  's  paper  on  'The  Redemptive  Power 

of  Art'  was  very  so-so,  and  did  not  touch  my  concep- 
tion of  the  theme,  viz.,  art  made  valuable  for  the 
reform  of  criminals.   I  spoke  of  this  with  warmth." 

After  the  Congress  "the  visiting  ladies  enjoyed  a 
drive  about  the  city  of  Denver.  I  went  early  to  the 
High  School  with  A.  A.  B.1  Found  Mrs.  Cheney 
speaking  to  the  pupils  assembled.  She  did  not  notice 
our  entrance  and  spoke  of  me  very  warmly.  Presently, 
turning  round,  she  saw  us  and  we  all  laughed.  I  spoke 
to  them  of  my  '  drink  of  youth' ;  compared  the  spirits 
of  youth  to  steam  given  to  carry  them  on  a  celestial 
railroad;  compared  youth  to  wine  in  a  beautiful  vase; 
spoke  of  ancient  libations  to  the  gods;  our  libation  to 
be  poured  to  the  true  Divine;  urged  them  not  to  starve 
their  studies  in  order  to  feed  their  amusements.  '  Two 
ways  of  study,  one  mean,  the  other  generous.'    Told 

1  The  Reverend  Antoinette  Blackwell. 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  153 

them  not  to  imitate  savages,  who  will  barter  valuable 
land  for  worthless  baubles;  not  so  to  barter  their  oppor- 
tunities for  barren  pleasures." 

She  preached  at  Unity  Church  Sunday  morning. 

"At  Grace  Church  [Methodist]  in  the  afternoon. 
Spoke  to  the  text,  '  God  hath  not  left  himself  without 
a  witness.5  This  witness  is  in  every  human  heart;  which, 
with  all  its  intense  desires,  desires  most  of  all,  law, 
order,  religion.  ...  I  applied  my  text  to  the  coming 
out  into  the  new  territories;  a  rough  Exodus  stimu- 
lated by  the  love  of  gold;  but  with  the  army  of  for- 
tune-seekers go  faithful  souls,  and  instead  of  passing 
out  of  civilization,  they  extend  its  bounds.  'Praise 
waiteth  for  thee  in  Zion '  —  yes,  but  the  Prophet  says : 
'The  solitary  places  shall  be  glad  for  them,'  et  cetera. 
I  set  this  down  for  future  use." 

The  Denver  people  were  most  friendly,  and  she 
enjoyed  the  visit  greatly.  Thence  she  stepped  west- 
ward once  more,  lecturing  and  preaching  as  she  went, 
everywhere  welcomed  with  cordial  warmth,  every- 
where carrying  her  ministry  with  her. 

"A  sweet  young  mother  was  dreadfully  plagued 
with  two  babies;  I  helped  her  as  much  as  I  could." 

"A  delicate  young  woman  was  travelling  with  her 
father,  a  boy  of  five  years,  and  a  semi-friend,  semi- 
help,  not  much  of  either.  This  party  sat  opposite  me 
in  the  Pullman,  and  soon  made  acquaintance.  She  is 
going  for  her  health  from  Tacoma  to  California.    An 

odd-looking   genius,    something    like   in   his 

youth,  got  in  somewhere  and  attracted  my  attention 


154  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

by  his  restless  manner.  I  took  him  for  no  good ;  a  gam- 
bler, perhaps.  He  seemed  to  notice  me  a  good  deal.  .  .  . 

"Made  acquaintance  with  the  odd-looking  young 
man.  He  is  a  timber-land  broker.  He  had  noticed  me 
because  I  reminded  him  of  his  mother.  We  became 
friends.  He  told  me  his  story.  He  brought  another 
gentleman,  a  man  more  of  society  than  himself,  and 
we  and  Mrs.  Campbell  played  whist.  We  were  quite 
gay  all  day.  In  the  evening  a  sad,  elderly  man  whom 
I  had  observed,  came  over  and  showed  me  his  wife's 
photograph  as  she  had  looked  in  health,  and  then  a 
photograph  of  her  in  her  last  illness;  he  holding  her 
up  in  his  arms.  He  said  he  was  travelling  to  help  his 
sorrow. 

"At  Reading  my  two  whist  gentlemen  cried  out, 
'Tamales!'  and  rushed  out.  They  presently  returned, 
bringing  some  curious  Mexican  eatables,  corn  meal 
with  chicken  and  red  peppers  rolled  in  corn  leaves. 
These  folk  all  left  at  Sacramento  at  three  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

California  was  once  more  her  goal.  This  second  visit 
was  brief  and  hurried. 

"Hurry,  scurry  to  dress  for  the  Forefathers'  Day 
celebration.  Oakley  was  my  squire.  I  was  taken  down 
to  dinner  by  Professor  Moore,  President  of  the  occa- 
sion. ...  I  was  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  called 
for,  and  all  were  requested  to  rise,  which  was  a  great 
honor  done  me.  I  spoke  of  two  Congregationalists 
whom  I  had  known,  Antoinette  Black  well,  of  whose 
ordination  I  told;  then  of  Theodore  Parker,  of  whom 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  155 

I  said,  'Nothing  that  I  have  heard  here  is  more  Chris- 
tian than  what  I  heard  from  him.'  I  told  of  his  first 
having  brought  into  notice  the  hymn,  'Nearer,  My 
God,  to  Thee,'  and  said  that  I  had  sung  it  with  him; 
said  that  in  advising  with  all  women's  clubs,  I  always 
urged  them  to  include  in  their  programmes  pressing 
questions  of  the  day.  Was  much  applauded.  .  .  .  They 
then  sang  the  'Battle  Hymn'  and  we  adjourned." 

She  spent  Christmas  with  Sister  Annie,  in  great 
contentment;  her  last  word  before  starting  for  home 
is,  "Thank  God  for  much  good!" 

To  Maud 

Boston. 

I  reached  Boston  very  comfortably  on  Monday 
night  about  eleven  o'clock.  I  was  slower  than  usual 
[on  the  journey]  in  making  friends  with  those  around 
me,  but  finally  thought  I  would  speak  to  the  pleasant- 
looking  woman  on  my  left.  She  had  made  acquaint- 
ance with  the  people  who  had  the  two  sections  behind 
mine.  I  had  observed  a  gaunt  young  man  going  back 
and  forth,  with  a  look  on  his  face  which  made  me  say 
to  my  friend  in  Number  Nine:  "  That  man  must  have 
committed  a  murder."  Who  do  you  think  he  turned 
out  to  be?  Lieutenant  Ripley,  of  the  Vandalia,  U.S.N. , 
the  great  ship  which  went  to  pieces  on  the  Samoan 
reef.  I,  of  course,  determined  to  hear  about  it  from 
his  own  lips,  and  we  had  a  most  interesting  talk.  He 
is  very  slight,  but  must  be  all  nerve  and  muscle.  All 
the  sailors  in  the  top  in  which  he  was  clinging  for  his 


156  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

life  fell  off  and  were  drowned.  He  held  on  till  the  Tren- 
ton came  down  upon  them,  when,  with  the  others  who 
were  saved  in  other  parts  of  the  rigging,  he  crept  along 
a  hawser  and  somehow  reached  the  Trenton.  Fearing 
that  she  would  go  to  pieces,  he  started  with  fifteen 
sailors  to  swim  ashore  —  he  alone  was  saved  —  he  says 
he  is  much  practised  in  swimming.  I  spoke  of  this  all 
as  a  dreadful  experience.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "  but  the  storm  cleared  out  the  Germans  for 
us."  He  was  thrown  ashore  insensible,  but  soon  recov- 
ered consciousness  —  had  been  naked  and  without 
food  for  thirty-six  hours.  Took  a  cup  of  coffee  in  one 
hand,  and  a  cup  of  brandy  in  the  other,  and  swallowed 
a  little  from  each  alternately,  his  refection  lasting 
from  nine  in  the  evening  till  one  o'clock  at  night.  .  .  . 

To  the  same 

We  have  not  seen  the  sun  in  some  days.  I  hope  that 
he  has  shined  upon  you.  Item,  I  have  almost  finished 
my  anxious  piece  of  work  for  the  N.Y.  "Evening 
Post,"  after  which  I  shall  say,  "Now,  frolic,  soul,  with 
thy  coat  off!" 

In  January,  1890,  she  "heard  young  Cram x  explain 
'Tristram  andlseult,'  and  young Prescott  execute  some 
of  the  music.  It  seemed  to  me  like  broken  china,  no 
complete  chord;  no  perfect  result;  no  architectonic." 

She  never  learned  to  like  what  was  in  those  days 
"the  new  music."  Wagner  and  Brahms  were  anathema 
to  her,  as  to  many  another  music-lover  of  her  time, 

1  Ralph  Adams  Cram,  architect  and  litterateur. 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  157 

notably  John  Sullivan  Dwight,  long-time  Boston's 
chief  musical  critic.  Many  a  sympathetic  talk  they 
had  together;  one  can  see  him  now,  his  eyes  burning 
gentle  fire,  head  nodding,  hands  waving,  as  he  de- 
nounced what  seemed  to  him  wanton  cacophony.  She 
avoided  the  Symphony  Concerts  at  which  "the  new 
music"  was  exploited;  but  it  was  positive  pain  to 
her  to  miss  a  symphony  of  Beethoven  or  Schubert. 

In  March  of  this  year  the  Saturday  Morning  Club 
of  Boston  gave  a  performance  of  the  "Antigone"  of 
Sophocles. 

"In  afternoon  to  the  second  representation  of  the 
'Antigone.'  .  .  .  On  the  whole  very  pathetic  and  pow- 
erful. Mrs.  Tilden  full  of  dramatic  fire;  Sally  Fairchild 
ideally  beautiful  in  dress,  attitude,  and  expression. 
The  whole  a  high  feast  of  beauty  and  of  poetry.  The 
male  parts  wonderfully  illusive,  especially  that  of 
Tiresias,  the  seer.  ..." 

To  Laura 

241  Beacon  Street,  Boston, 
April  26,  1890. 

I'se  very  sorry  for  unhandsome  neglect  complained 
of  in  your  last.  What  are  we  going  to  do  about  it?  I 
have  now  and  then  made  efforts  to  reclaim  the  old 
Party,  but  have  long  considered  her  incorrigible. 
What  shall  we  say,  then?  "Where  sin  doth  abound, 
Grace  shall  much  more  abound,"  or  words  to  that 
effect,  are  recorded  of  one  Paul,  of  whom  I  have  no 
mean  opinion.  So,  there's  Scripture  for  you,  do  you 
see?    As  I  wrote  you  yes'day  or  day  before,  things 


158  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

have  been  hoppy  here  since  my  return.  The  elder 
Agassiz  used  to  mention  in  his  lectures  the  Lepidoptera, 
and  I  think  that's  the  creature  (insect,  I  b'lieve)  which 
infests  Boston.  What  I  have  hopped  for,  and  whither 
to,  I  cannot  in  the  least  remember.  Flossy  was  here, 
as  you  know,  and  I  hop't  for  her.  I  also  'tended  two 
of  the  festival  Oratorios,  which  were  fine,  but  to  me 
very  fatiguing.  I  find  that  I  must  take  public  amuse- 
ments, when  I  do  take  them,  in  the  afternoon,  as  in 
the  evening  bodily  fatigue  overmasters  even  the  aes- 
thetic sense,  and  it  is  not  worth  while  to  pay  a  large 
price  for  the  pleasure  of  wishing  one's  self  at  home.  .  .  . 
The  benefit  at  Boston  Museum  for  the  Vincent  Hos- 
pital netted  over  $1600.  It  was  a  brilliant  success, 
but  I  caught  there  the  first  cold  I  have  had  since  my 
return  from  the  Far  West.  Maud  is  very  busy  with 
the  flower  table,  which  she  has  undertaken,  having 
nothing  to  do.  This  is  for  the  Vincent  Fair,  which 
will  take  place  on  Tuesday,  29th.  .  .  .  Have  got  a  few 
lovely  books  from  Libbie's  sale  of  the  Hart  collection 
—  among  other  things,  a  fine  French  edition  of  "  Les 
Miserables,"  which  I  am  at  last  glad  never  to  have 
read,  as  I  shall  enjoy  it,  D.V.,  in  some  of  the  long 
reading  days  of  summer.  .  .  . 

Your  ownty  donty 

Ma. 
P.S.   Before  the  Libbie  sale  I  wickedly  bid  $25  upon 
a  small  but  very  precious  missal.   It  brought  $825!! 

When  she  reached  Oak  Glen  in  mid-June,  she  felt  a 
"constant  discouragement";  was  lonely,  and  missed 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  159 

the  cheerful  converse  of  her  club  and  suffrage  friends. 
"My  work  seems  to  me  to  amount  to  nothing  at  all." 
She  soon  revived,  and  "determined  to  fulfil  in  due 
order  all  the  tasks  undertaken  for  this  summer;  so 
attacked  the  Kappa  poem  and  wrote  at  a  stretch 
twenty-two  verses,  of  four  lines  each,  which  was 
pretty  much  my  day's  work.  Read  in  Martineau,  in 
J.  F.  C,  a  little  Greek,  and  the  miserable  '  Les  Mise- 
rables.' " 

She  decided  to  hold  some  conversations  in  the  Uni- 
tarian parsonage,  and  wrote  out  the  following  topics 
for  them :  — 

"Useful  undertakings  in  this  city  as  existing  and 
needed." 

"  How  to  promote  public  spirit  in  American  men  and 
women." 

"How  to  attain  a  just  average  estimate  of  our  own 
people." 

"How  far  is  it  wise  to  adopt  the  plan  of  universal 
reading  for  ourselves  and  our  young  people?" 

"In  what  respects  do  the  foreign  civilizations  re- 
tard, in  what  do  they  promote  the  progress  of  our  own 
civilization?" 

In  August  she  preached  to  the  women  in  Sherborn 
Prison,  choosing  a  "text  of  cheer  and  uplifting:  'Thine 
is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the  glory.'  Read 
part  of  Isaiah  40th.  Said  that  I  had  wished  to  bring 
them  some  word  of  comfort  and  exhilaration.  Pointed 
out  how  the  Lord's  Prayer  begins  with  solemn  worship 
and  ascription,  aspiring  to  God's  Kingdom,  praying 
for  daily  bread  and  for  deliverance  from  temptation 


160  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  all  evil;  at  the  close  it  rises  into  this  joyous  strain, 
'Thine  is  the  kingdom,'  et  cetera.  Tried  to  show  how 
the  kingdom  is  God,  the  great  providential  order,  be- 
fore and  beyond  all  earthly  government;  then  the 
power,  that  of  perfect  wisdom  and  goodness,  the  power 
to  know  and  rule  all  things,  to  be  everywhere  and  ever 
present,  to  regulate  the  mighty  sweep  of  stars  and 
planets,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  take  note  of  the 
poorest  and  smallest  of  us;  the  glory  first  of  the  visible 
universe,  glory  of  the  day  and  night,  of  the  seasons, 
glory  of  the  redeeming  power  of  truth,  glory  of  the  inex- 
haustible patience,  of  boundless  compassion  and  love." 

She  enjoyed  the  visit  to  the  prison  and  was  thankful 
for  it. 

A  few  days  later,  at  a  meeting  in  Newport,  she  heard 
a  lady  demand  that  the  children  of  genius  should  be 
set  apart  from  others  for  special  education  and  en- 
couragement, receiving  a  pension  even  in  their  early 
years.  She  demanded  colleges  of  genius,  and  a  retreat 
for  people  of  genius.  By  thus  fostering  juvenile  prom- 
ise, we  should  produce  giants  and  demigods. 

"I,  being  called  upon,  gave  the  card  house  a  toler- 
able shaking,  and,  I  think,  brought  it  down,  for  which 
several  people  thanked  me." 

Vividly  as  she  lived  in  the  present,  the  past  was 
never  far  from  her. 

"Had  in  the  morning  at  first  waking  a  very  vivid 
mind-picture  of  my  sweet  young  mother  lying  dead, 
with  two  or  three  of  us  little  ones  standing  about  her. 
My  brother  Henry,  two  years  my  senior,  laid  his  little 
hand  upon  her  forehead  and  said:  'It  is  as  cold  as  a 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  161 

stone,'  or  some  such  comparison.  I  felt  strangely,  this 
morning,  the  very  pain  and  agony  of  that  moment, 
preceding  the  tragical  vision  of  a  life  in  which  that 
central  point  of  nurture,  a  mother's  affection  and  wis- 
dom, has  been  wanting.  The  scene  in  my  mind  was 
only  a  vivid  reminiscence  of  what  actually  took  place, 
which  I  never  forgot,  but  I  had  not  felt  it  as  I  did 
to-day  in  many  years." 

Perhaps  at  heart  she  was  always  the  little  child 
who  used  to  say  to  herself  at  night,  "  Now  I  will 
stretch  out  and  make  myself  as  long  as  I  can,  so  that 
the  robbers  will  think  I  am  a  grown-up  person,  and 
perhaps  then  they  will  not  touch  me!"  "Then,"  she 
told  us,  "I  would  stretch  myself  out  at  full  length, 
and  go  to  sleep." 

She  was  reading  Martineau's  "Study  of  Religion" 
this  summer  with  close  attention  and  deep  interest. 
His  writings  gave  her  unfailing  delight.  His  portrait 
hung  in  her  room;  on  her  desk  lay  always  a  slender 
volume  of  his  "Prayers,"  her  favorite  passages  marked 
in  pencil.  When  Louise  Chandler  Moulton  lay  dying, 
the  best  comfort  she  could  devise  for  her  was  the  loan 
of  this  precious  little  volume. 

The  "Study  of  Religion"  is  not  light  reading.  We 
find  now  and  then:  "Head  threatening.  Will  not 
tackle  Martineau  to-day";  and  again:  "My  head  is 
possessed  with  my  study  of  Martineau.  Had  a  mo- 
ment's realizing  sense  this  morning  of  the  universe  as 
created  and  constantly  re-created  by  the  thought  of 
the  will  of  God.  The  phrase  is  common  enough:  the 
thought,  vast  beyond  human  conception." 


162  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

WThen  her  head  was  clear,  she  studied  the  great 
theologian  eagerly,  copying  many  passages  for  more 
complete  assimilation. 

September  brought  "alarums  and  excursions." 

"Awoke  and  sprang  at  once  into  the  worry  saddle." 

Another  Congress  was  coming,  another  "A.A.W." 
paper  to  be  written,  beside  an  opening  address  for  the 
Mechanics'  Fair,  and  "  1500  words  for  Bok,"  on  some 
aspect  of  the  American  woman. 

She  went  to  Boston  for  the  opening  of  the  Me- 
chanics' Fair,  and  sat  beside  Phillips  Brooks  in  the 
great  hall.  "They  will  not  hear  us!"  she  said.  "No," 
replied  Brooks.  "This  is  the  place  where  little  children 
are  seen  and  not  heard." 

"Mayor  Hart  backed  up  the  Tariff  while  I  praised 
Free  Trade.  My  text  was  two  words  of  God:  'Use 
and  Beauty.'  My  brief  address  was  written  carefully 
though  hastily." 

There  was  no  neighborly  electric  road  in  Rhode 
Island  in  those  days,  and  the  comings  and  goings  were 
fatiguing. 

"A  hard  day.  .  .  .  The  rain  was  pitiless,  and  I  in 
my  best  clothes,  and  without  rubbers.  Embraced  a 
chance  of  driving  to  the  Perry  House,  where  ...  it 
was  cold  and  dark.  I  found  a  disconsolate  couple  from 
Schenectady  who  had  come  to  Newport  for  a  day's 
pleasuring.  Did  my  best  to  entertain  them,  walking 
about  the  while  to  keep  warm." 

She  got  home  finally,  and  the  day  ends  with  her 
ordering  a  warm  mash  for  the  horse. 

This  horse,  Ha'pence,  a  good  and  faithful  beast, 


SEVENTY  YEARS  YOUNG  163 

ran  a  great  danger  this  summer.  The  coachman, 
leaving  in  dudgeon,  poisoned  the  oats  with  Paris  green, 
a  diabolical  act  which  the  Journal  chronicles  with 
indignation.  Fortunately  the  deed  was  discovered  in 
time. 

She  was  always  thoughtful  of  animals.  During  the 
reign  at  241  Beacon  Street  of  the  little  fox-terrier 
Patch,  it  often  fell  to  her  lot  to  take  him  out  to  walk, 
and  she  felt  this  a  grave  responsibility. 

One  day  Patch  ran  away  on  Beacon  Street,  and 
would  not  come  back  when  she  called  him.  At  this 
instant  Dr.  Holmes,  passing,  paused  for  a  friendly 
greeting. 

"Mrs.  Howe,"  he  said,  "  I  trust  this  fine  morning  — " 

"  Catch  the  dog  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Howe.  One  author  flew 
one  way,  one  the  other;  between  the  two  Patch  was 
caught  and  brought  in  triumph  home. 

One  dog  story  recalls  another.  She  was  in  the  North 
Station  one  day,  about  to  start  for  Gardiner,  as  was 
also  the  setter  Diana,  crated  and  very  unhappy. 

"Here,  Auntie!"  said  the  baggage-master;  "you 
set  here  and  be  company  for  the  dog,  and  I  '11  get  your 
check!" 

She  complied  meekly,  and  was  found  somewhat 
later  by  her  escort,  "being  company"  for  a  much- 
comforted  Diana. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  SUMMER  ABROAD 

1892-1893;  ad.  73-74 

Methinks  my  friends  grow  beauteous  in  my  sight, 
As  the  years  make  their  havoc  of  sweet  things; 
Like  the  intenser  glory  of  the  light 
When  the  sad  bird  of  Autumn  sits  and  sings. 

Ah!  woe  is  me!  ah!  Memory, 
Be  cheerful,  thanking  God  for  things  that  be. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  longing  to  revisit  England  and  enjoy  another 
" whiff"  of  a  London  season  was  gratified  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1892.  Accompanied  by  the  Elliotts  and  a 
granddaughter,  she  sailed  for  Liverpool  on  the  4th  of 
June;  "a  day  of  almost  inconceivable  pressure  and 
labor.  I  could  not  waste  one  minute,  yet  could  not 
do  some  of  the  simplest  things  which  I  intended  to  do. 
Our  departure  was  tolerably  decorous  and  comfort- 
able." 

"June  IS.  At  sea.  Have  enjoyed  some  good  read- 
ing, and  have  read  one  book,  'Bel  Ami,'  by  Guy  de 
Maupassant,  which  I  found  so  objectionable  that  I 
had  to  skip  whole  passages  of  mere  sensual  descrip- 
tion. My  loathing  of  the  book  and  its  personages  will 
keep  me  from  encountering  again  the  filth  of  this 
author.  .  .  ." 

"June  16.  Chester.  Attended  service  in  the  Cathe- 
dral. I  first  came  to  Chester  as  a  bride,  forty-nine 
years  ago;  then  in  1867  with  dear  Chev,  Julia,  and 
Laura;  in  1877  with  dear  Maud;  and  now  with  Maud 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  165 

and  her  husband  and  my  dear  grandchild,  Alice  Rich- 
ards. These  three  periods  in  my  woman's  life  gave  me 
much  to  think  of." 

June  18  found  the  party  established  in  pleasant 
lodgings  in  Albion  Street,  Hyde  Park,  where  they  were 
soon  surrounded  by  friends  old  and  new. 

"June  21.  .  .  .In  the  afternoon  Lady  Aberdeen, 
Arthur  Mills,  and  Henry  Harland  visited  me.  A.  M.'s 
hair  is  quite  white.  It  was  only  iron  grey  when  we  last 
met,  thirteen  years  ago." 

"June  22.  Mrs.  Brooke  Herford  wrote  to  ask  me 
to  come  out  this  afternoon  to  meet  Mrs.  Humphry 
Ward.  The  Albert  Hall  performance  very  interesting. 
Lord  Aberdeen  sent  his  carriage  for  us.  My  seat  was 
next  to  that  of  the  Countess,  who  appeared  in  a  very 
fine  dress  of  peach-blossom  corded  silk,  with  white 
lace  draperies  —  on  my  left  was  Lord  Brooke.  Lady 
Aberdeen  introduced  me  to  Lord  Kenmare  and  Dr. 
Barnardo.  The  singing  of  the  children,  a  band  of 
rescued  waifs,  moved  me  to  tears.  The  military  drill 
of  the  boys  and  the  Maypole  dance  of  the  girls  were 
very  finely  done.  There  are  more  than  4000  of  these 
children  in  Barnardo  Homes." 

"June  23.  To  the  first  view  of  the  Society  of  Eng- 
lish Portrait  Painters.  Portraits  on  the  whole  well 
worth  seeing  —  Herkomers  very  good,  also  Mrs.  Anna 
Lea  Merritt's  and  others.  A  superb  portrait  of  Cardi- 
nal Manning,  in  full  red  and  ermine.  In  the  evening 
Lady  Aberdeen  sent  her  carriage  for  me  and  I  went 
with  her  to  a  meeting  of  the  Liberal  League,  at  which 


166  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

she  spoke  with  a  pleasant  playfulness,  dwelling  some- 
what upon  the  position  that  Home  Rule,  if  given  to 
Ireland,  would  do  away  with  the  ill-feeling  of  the  Irish 
in  America  towards  England.  To  lunch  with  Lady 
Aberdeen.  Lief  Jones  came  into  the  meeting  while 
Lady  Aberdeen  was  speaking,  and  with  him  Lady 
Carlisle.  She  shook  hands  with  me  very  cordially. 
Presently  Lief  Jones  began  his  address,  which  was 
quite  lengthy,  presenting  the  full  platform  of  the  Lib- 
eral Party.  He  is  a  brisk,  adroit  speaker,  and  made 
points  in  favor  of  Woman  Suffrage,  of  Home  Rule,  of 
the  disestablishment  of  the  Anglican  Church  in  Wales 
and  Scotland,  of  the  eight-hour  labor  law,  of  the  pur- 
chase of  the  waterworks,  now  owned  by  eight  com- 
panies in  the  city." 

"June  2Jf.  The  lunch  at  Lady  Aberdeen's  was  very 
pleasant.  Mrs.  Eva  McLaren  *  talked  with  me,  as 
did  Miss  Ferguson.  The  American  Minister,  Robert 
Lincoln,2  was  introduced  to  me  and  was  very  friendly." 

"June  25.  Went  to  Toynbee  Hall  by  Whitechapel 
'bus.  Had  received  a  note,  which  I  supposed  to  be 
from  a  lady,  offering  to  show  me  over  the  institution. 
We  were  shown  into  a  large  room,  bare  of  carpet,  but 
with  some  pictures  and  bric-a-brac.  After  waiting 
half  an  hour,  a  young  gentleman  made  his  appearance, 
a  Mr.  Ames  —  the  letter  had  been  from  him.  He 
showed  me  Mr.  Charles  [not  General]  Booth's  map 
of  gradations  of  wealth  and  poverty  in  London.  The 
distinctions  are  marked  by  colors  and  shades  of  color 
—  criminal  centres  designated  by  black.   In  the  after- 

1  Author  of  Civil  Rights  of  Women.  2  Son  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  167 

noon  to  Sarasate's  concert,  all  violin  and  piano-forte, 
but  very  fine." 

"Jane  26.  To  hear  Stopford  Brooke  in  the  morn- 
ing, an  interesting  sermon.  .  .  He  called  the  Agnos- 
tics and  Nirvanists  a  type  found  in  many  classes,  but 
not  a  class.  ..." 

"June  27.  To  lunch  with  Mrs.  Harland.  Very 
pleasant.  Edmund  Gosse  was  the  guest  invited  to 
meet  me.  He  was  vivacious,  easy,  and  agreeable.  Also 
the  composer  Marzials.  ..." 

"June  28.  To  Westminster  Abbey.  To  Alice,  its  in- 
terest seemed  inexhaustible.  It  is  so,  indeed,  had  one 
time  to  be  'strewing  violets  all  the  time,'  as  E.  B.  B. 
said.  Longfellow's  bust  has  been  placed  there  since 
my  last  visit;  the  likeness  is  good.  I  wandered  about 
as  long  as  my  feet  would  carry  me,  thinking  some- 
times of  Gray's  question,  'Can  storied  urn,'  etc.  The 
Harlands  came  later  and  brought  the  composer  of 
'Twickenham  Ferry.'  With  Alice  to  dine  at  Toynbee 
Hall.  A  pleasant  dinner.  A  bright  young  man,  Bruce 
by  name,  related  to  Abyssinian  Bruce,  took  Alice  in 
to  dinner  —  sitting  afterwards  in  Ames's  room,  where 
we  met  an  alderman,  a  bricklayer,  a  trades'  unionist; 
later,  we  heard  a  lecture  from  Commander  Gladstone, 
on  the  Norman-Breton  churches,  with  fine  stereo- 
scopic plates.  A  violent  storm  came  on,  but  we  man- 
aged to  '  'bus  it'  home,  taking  a  cab  only  at  Marble 
Arch." 

"June  29.  To  dine  with  the  Greek  Minister  at  eight 
o'clock,  and  to  the  soirSe  of  the  Academy. 

"To  Chelsea,  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Oscar  Wilde.  .  .  . 


168  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

He  showed  me  with  pride  a  fine  boy  of  five  years.  We 
had  some  talk  of  old  times,  of  his  visit  to  America; 
I  reminded  him  of  the  vermilion  balcony  at  which 
he  laughed."  [Wilde  had  complained  that  the  usual 
pronunciation  of  these  words  was  prosaic] 

"June  30.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Oscar  Wilde  asks  us  to  take 
tea  on  Thursday;  she  has  invited  Walter  Pater.  .  .  . 
Have  writ  to  James  Bryce." 

"July  2.  To  see  Oscar  Wilde's  play,  'Lady  Winder- 
mere's Fan,'  at  St.  James's  Theatre.  We  went  by  in- 
vitation to  his  box,  where  were  Lady  Wilde  and  Mrs. 
Oscar.  The  play  was  perfectly  acted,  and  is  excellent 
of  its  kind,  the  motif  not  new,  but  the  denouement 
original  in  treatment.  After  the  play  to  call  on  Lady 
Rothschild,  then  to  Constance  Flower,1  who  showed 
us  her  superb  house  full  of  treasures  of  art." 

"July  4-  Mrs.  [Edmund]  Gosse  came  and  took  us 
to  Alma-Tadema's  beautiful  house  and  garden.  He 
met  us  very  cordially.  Mrs.  Smalley  came.  She  was 
Wendell  Phillips's  adopted  daughter.  I  had  a  pleas- 
ant talk  with  her  and  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hughes, 
whom  I  charged  with  a  friendly  message  to  Thomas 
himself.  After  this  to  Minister  Lincoln's  Fourth  of 
July  reception.  Harry  White,  Daisy  Rutherford's 
husband,  was  introduced." 

Elsewhere  she  says  of  this  visit  to  Alma-Tadema :  — 

"His  charming  wife,  once  seen,  explains  some  of  the 
features  of  his  works.  She  has  yellow  hair  of  the  rich- 
est color;  her  eyes  also  have  a  primrose' tint,  while  her 
complexion  has  a  pale  bloom  of  its   own,  most   re- 

1  Lady  Battersea. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  169 

sembling  that  of  a  white  rose.  She  gave  us  tea  from 
lozenge-shaped  cups,  with  saucers  to  match.  In  the 
anteroom  below  we  admired  a  painting  by  her  own 
hand,  of  yellow  jonquils  and  a  yellow  fan,  on  a  dark 
background.  Her  husband  seemed  pleased  when  we 
praised  this  picture.  So  these  two  artists  occupy  their 
golden  nest  peaceably,  and  do  not  tear  each  other's 
laurels. 

"Let  me  say  here  that  the  passion  for  the  golden 
color  still  prevails.  In  dress,  in  furniture,  in  porcelain, 
it  is  the  prevailing  favorite.  Long  banished  from  the 
social  rainbow,  it  now  avenges  itself  for  years  of  neg- 
lect, and,  as  every  dog  must  have  his  day,  we  will  say 
that  the  yellow  dog  is  now  to  have  his,  and  that  the 
dog-star  of  this  coming  August  will  certainly  be  of  his 
color." 

"July  6.  With  Maud  to  Liberty's,  where  she  be- 
guiled me,  alas!  into  buying  a  fine  black  silk  mantle 
for  six  guineas.  To  Nutt's  in  the  Strand  for  my  Greek 
books.  He  had  only  the  'Nicomathean  Ethics,'  a  fine 
edition  which  I  bought  for  twelve  shillings.  Then  to 
Poole's  in  Hallowell  Street,  where  bought  two  editions 
of  Aristotle's  'Government,'  with  English  notes.  At 
Poole's  found  a  copy  of  Schiller's  'Robbers,'  which  I 
bought  for  threepence." 

"July  7.  Afternoon  tea  with  Mrs.  Oscar,  meeting 
an  aunt  of  Mrs.  Wilde's,  and  Mrs.  Burne-Jones.  The 
aunt  had  been  in  Japan  —  she  had  known  Fenollosa 
and  Professor  Morse.  Then  to  Mrs.  Louise  Chandler 
Moulton,  who  introduced  a  number  of  people,  among 
them  William  Sharp,  a  poet." 


170  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"July  8.  I  had  rashly  promised  to  lunch  with  the 
Brooke  Herfords  at  Hampstead,  and  to  take  five- 
o'clock  tea  with  Mrs.  Rebecca  Moore  at  Bedford  Place. 
The  Herfords  were  delightful,  and  Hampstead  is  a 
charming  suburb.  We  saw  the  outside  of  Mrs.  Bar- 
bauld's  house.  Herford  said  much  good  of  Cookson,  a 
farmer's  son  whom  he  had  known  in  England  from 
his  beginnings,  a  dignified,  able,  excellent  man  in  his  es- 
teem. From  this  a  long  distance  to  Mrs.  Moore.  We 
reached  her  in  good  time,  however.  Found  her  alone, 
in  a  pleasant  little  dwelling.  Three  ladies  came  to  tea, 
which  was  served  quite  in  state  —  Stepniak  l  came 
also." 

"July  9.  To  lunch  with  Lady  Henry  Somerset. 
Some  talk  with  Lady  H.  about  Mrs.  Fawcett,  et  al.: 
also  concerning  Mrs.  Martin's  intended  candidacy  for 
the  presidency  of  the  United  States,  which,  however 
futile  in  itself,  we  deplore  as  tending  to  throw  ridicule 
upon  the  Woman's  Cause.  She  thought  that  the  Con- 
servatives would  give  women  the  Parliamentary  Suf- 
frage in  England  on  account  of  the  great  number  of 
women  who  have  joined  the  Primrose  League." 

"July  10.  To  the  Temple  Church.  The  organ  vol- 
untaries, strangely,  I  thought,  were  first  Chopin's 
'Funeral  March,'  second  the  'Dead  March'  in  'Saul/ 
A  notable  sermon  from  Dr.  Vaughan.  The  discourse 
was  really  concerned  with  the  political  situation  of  the 
moment :  the  strong  division  of  feeling  throughout  the 
country,  and  the  fears  of  many  lest  the  doctrine  in 

1  Sergius  Stepniak,  a  Russian  author,  then  a  political  exile  living  in 
England. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  171 

which  they  believe  should  be  overthrown.  He  said 
that  the  real  Ark  of  God  was  the  Church  Universal, 
which  has  been  defined  as  the  whole  company  of  be- 
lieving Christian  people  throughout  the  world.  Many 
changes  would  occur,  but  the  vital  principle  of  religion 
would  prove  itself  steadfast  —  a  truly  noble  sermon, 
worthy  of  Phillips  Brooks." 

"July  12.  To  the  New  Gallery  in  which  were  two 
fine  portraits  by  Herkomer,  a  superb  one  of  Pade- 
rewski  by  Tadema,  and  one  of  Walter  Crane  by  Watts, 
also  of  distinguished  excellence.  Later,  called  upon 
the  Duchess  of  Bedford,  a  handsome  woman,  sister 
to  Lady  Henry  Somerset.  We  talked  of  her  sister's 
visit  to  the  United  States.  I  was  well  able  to  praise  her 
eloquence  and  her  general  charm.  She  has  known 
Lowell  well.  We  talked  of  the  old  London,  the  old 
Boston,  both  past  their  palmiest  literary  da^s.  She 
had  heard  Phillips  Brooks  at  Westminster  Abbey; 
admired  him  much,  but  thought  him  optimistic." 

"July  14.  Was  engaged  to  spend  the  afternoon  at 
Mrs.  Moulton's  reception  and  to  dine  with  Sebastian 
Schlesinger.  .  .  .  Many  people  introduced  to  me  — 
Jerome,  author  of  'Three  Men  in  a  Boat';  Molloy,  song- 
writer; Theodore  Watts,  poetical  critic  of  the  'Athe- 
naeum.' ...  At  the  dinner  I  met  Mrs.  O'Connor,  who 
turned  out  to  be  a  Texan,  pretty  and  very  pleasant, 
an  Abolitionist  at  the  age  of  six.  ..." 

"July  15.  .  .  .  To  the  Harlands',  where  met  Theo- 
dore Watts  again,  and  had  some  good  talk  with  him 
about  Browning  and  other  friends.  Also  Walter  Be- 
sant,  whom  I  greeted  very  warmly  as  'our  best  friend.' ': 


172  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"July  17.  A  sermon  of  surpassing  beauty  and 
power  from  the  dear  Bishop  of  Massachusetts  [Phil- 
lips Brooks].  .  .  .  The  power  and  spirit  of  the  discourse 
carried  me  quite  away.  We  waited  to  speak  with  him. 
I  had  a  dear  grasp  of  the  hand  from  him.  I  shook  my 
finger  at  him  and  said,  'Is  this  resting?'  He  laughed 
and  said,  'This  is  the  last  time.  I  shall  not  speak  again 
until  I  reach  Massachusetts.'  I  wrote  some  lines  on 
coming  home,  only  half  expressing  my  thought,  which 
was  that  the  mother  of  so  brave  a  son  could  not  have 
had  one  coward  drop  of  blood  in  her  veins  —  another 
little  scrap,  too,  about  the  seven  devils  that  Chris- 
tianity can  cast  out.  General  Walker  in  the  afternoon 
and  the  Harlands  to  dinner." 

They  left  London  to  join  Mrs.  Terry  at  Schwal- 
bach,  lingering  for  a  little  on  the  way  in  Holland  and 
Belgium. 

"July  27.  The  Hague.  To  see  Mesdag  and  his  pic- 
tures. Found  Mesdag  a  hale  man  of  perhaps  fifty 
years  —  perhaps  less;  a  fine  house,  and,  besides  his 
own  paintings  of  which  we  saw  a  number,  a  wonderful 
collection  of  pictures,  mostly  modern  French,  Troyon, 
Corot,  Rousseau,  Daubigny.  Some  good  things  by  a 
Roman  artist,  Mancini,  whom  Mesdag  praised  highly 
—  he  is  very  poor,  but  has  some  excellent  qualities. 
A  picture  of  a  little  girl  reclining  on  a  pillow  with  a 
few  flowers  in  her  hand,  pleased  me  very  much  —  he 
also  praised  it.  Much  fine  tapestry,  china,  etc.,  etc. 
He  was  gruffly  pleasant  and  hospitable." 

"July  28.  Antwerp.  Visited  Cathedral  and  Musee. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  173 

Saw  my  picture,  Rubens's  Elevation  of  the  Cross, 
but  felt  that  my  eyesight  has  dimmed  since  I  last  saw 
it.  Found  Felu,  the  armless  artist,  in  the  Musee  copy- 
ing a  picture  of  Godiva.  He  was  very  glad  to  see  us. 
Much  talk  with  him  about  Flemish  art.  A  little  ramble 
after  dinner  and  a  nibble  at  a  bric-a-brac  shop,  which, 
however,  did  not  become  a  bite." 

"July  31.  Cologne.  A  great  concourse  of  people 
awaited  the  arrival  of  a  steamer  with  the  Arion  Musi- 
cal Society  of  New  York.  Koln  choral  societies  were 
represented  by  fine  banners  and  by  members  in  medi- 
aeval costumes,  very  picturesque.  The  steamer  came 
alongside  with  many  flags,  foremost  among  them  our 
own  dear  'Stars  and  Stripes.'  We  waved  handker- 
chiefs vigorously  as  these  last  passed  by,  and  were 
saluted  by  their  bearers." 

"August  2.  Left  Cologne  by  Rhine  steamer.  I  re- 
member these  boats  as  crowded,  dirty,  and  very  com- 
fortless, but  I  found  this  one  as  well  appointed  as  need 
be.  Spent  the  day  mostly  on  deck  enjoying  the  great 
beauty  and  romance  of  the  trip.  ...  I  chilled  myself 
pretty  badly  on  deck,  but  stayed  up  until  perhaps 
half-past  seven.  A  very  young  Westphalian  on  board 
astonished  us  all  by  his  powers  of  drinking  and  of 
smoking.  He  talked  with  me;  said,  '  Sie  sind  deutsch,' 
which  I  denied." 

"August  3.  Reached  Schwalbach  at  three.  My  dear 
sister  [Mrs.  Terry]  came  out  to  greet  us.  The  meet- 
ing was  a  little  tearful,  but  also  cheerful.  Much  has 
passed  and  passed  away  in  these  eventful  years.  .  .  . 
Presently  Louisa  and  I  were  as  though  we  had  not 


174  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

been  parted  at  all.   She  is  little  changed,  and  retains 
her  old  grace  and  charm  of  manner." 

"August  I*.  Out  early  with  my  sister.  We  have  a 
regular  and  restful  plan  of  living.  Meet  after  dinner, 
coffee  with  my  sister  at  half -past  four,  supper  at  half- 
past  seven,  in  the  evening  reading  aloud  and  conver- 
sation. I  am  miserable  with  pain,  probably  rheumatic, 
in  my  left  hip.  Think  I  must  have  got  a  chill  on  the 
Rhine  boat.  I  say  nothing  about  this.  Daisy  and 
Wintie  [Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winthrop  Chanler]  came  this 
afternoon." 

"August  7.  To  Anglican  service  with  my  dear  sister. 
A  dull  sermon.  The  service  indifferently  read  —  just 
the  stereotyped  Church  of  England  article.  My  dread- 
ful hip  joint  does  not  ache  to-day,  and  I  am  ready  to 
skip  about  with  joy  at  the  relief  even  if  it  prove  but 
temporary.  The  pain  has  been  pretty  severe  and  I 
have  said  nought  about  it,  fearing  treatment." 

"August  9.  Read  Aristotle,  as  I  have  done  all  these 
days.  Took  up  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans, 
with  a  more  distinct  view  than  heretofore  of  his  atti- 
tude relative  to  them,  and  theirs  to  him.  Walked  out 
with  my  sister,  and  saw  at  the  bric-a-brac  booth  near 
the  Stahlbrunnen  a  ring  composed  of  a  fine  garnet, 
set  with  fine  diamonds,  wonderfully  cheap,  136  marks 
—  I  foolishly  wanted  it." 

"August  16.  Heidelberg.  To  the  Castle  —  an  end- 
less walk  and  climb.  I  was  here  in  1843,  a  bride,  with 
dear  Chev,  my  dearest  brother  Marion,  and  my  cou- 
sin, Henry  Hall  Ward.  We  went  to  the  Wolfbrunnen 
to  breakfast  —  went  on  ponies  to  the  Castle,  where 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  175 

we  wandered  at  will,  and  saw  the  mighty  tun.  Some 
French  people  were  wandering  there  also,  and  one  of 
them,  a  lady  with  a  sweet  soprano  voice,  sang  a  song 
of  which  the  refrain  was :  '  Comme  une  itoile  au  firma- 
ment.'' H.  H.  Ward  long  after  found  this  song  some- 
where. His  voice  has  now  been  silent  for  twenty  years, 
dear  Marion's  for  forty-six,  and  here  I  come  to-day, 
with  my  grown-up  granddaughter,  whom  dear  Chev 
only  knew  as  a  baby.  How  long  the  time  seems,  and 
yet  how  short!  Two  generations  have  grown  up  since 
then  in  our  family.  My  sister  Louisa,  then  a  young 
beauty,  is  here  with  me,  a  grandmother  with  grand- 
children nearly  grown.  'So  teach  us  to  number  our 
days.'" 

It  seemed  to  the  second  and  third  generations  that 
the  two  sisters  could  hardly  have  been  lovelier  in  that 
far-off  springtime  than  now  in  the  mellow  beauty  of 
their  autumn.  It  was  a  delight  to  see  them  together,  a 
high  privilege  to  sit  by  and  listen  to  the  interchange 
of  precious  memories :  — 

"Do  you  remember  — " 

"And  do  you  remember  again  — " 

"August  SJf..  Sonnenberg.  . .  .  At  breakfast  an  elderly 
lady  seemed  to  look  at  me  and  to  smile.  I  supposed 
her  to  be  one  of  my  Club  ladies,  or  some  one  who  had 
entertained  me,  so  presently  I  asked  her  if  she  were 
'one  of  my  acquaintances.'  She  replied  that  she  was 
not,  but  would  be  pleased  to  make  my  acquaintance. 
We  met  soon  after  in  one  of  the  corridors;  having 


176  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

incautiously  mentioned  my  name,  I  asked  for  hers, 
she  replied,  'Sforza —  Duchess  Sforza  Cesarini.'  She 
had  been  attracted  by  my  Breton  caps,  and  especially 
by  Daisy's  beautiful  version  of  this  simple  adornment. 
She  is  a  reader  of  Rosmini."  * 

The  Duchess  confessed  afterward  that  she  had  re- 
quested her  maid  to  observe  and  copy  the  cap,  and 
had  been  somewhat  troubled  in  mind  lest  she  had  been 
guilty  of  a  constructive  discourtesy. 

"  September  3.  Received  and  answered  a  letter  from 
Jenkin  Lloyd  Jones,  informing  me  of  my  election  to 
an  Advisory  Board  to  hold  a  World's  Unitarian  Con- 
gress at  Chicago  in  September,  1893.  I  have  accepted 
this." 

"  September  ]>.  My  last  day  at  Sonnenberg.  .  .  .  Gave 
my  sister  my  little  old  Greek  Lexicon,  long  a  cherished 
companion.  I  had  thought  of  reading  the  family  one 
of  my  sermons,  but  my  throat  was  troublesome  and 
no  one  asked  me  to  do  anything  of  the  kind.  They 
wished  to  hear  'Pickwick,'  and  a  long  reading  was  held 
in  my  room,  the  fire  in  the  grate  helping  to  cheer  us." 

"September  15.  Left  Montreux  for  Paris.  Reed 
brought  me  a  beautiful  yellow  rose,  half-blown,  upon 
which  I  needs  must  exercise  my  old  trick  of  versifica- 
tion. Paper  I  had  none  —  the  back  of  a  pasteboard 
box  held  one  stanza,  the  cover  of  a  Tauchnitz  the 
others." 

1  Rosmini-Serbati,  a  noted  philosopher  and  founder  of  the  order  of 
the  Brothers  of  Charity. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  177 

"September  18.  Heard  to-day  of  the  noble  poet, 
Whittier's  death.  What  a  great  heart  is  gone  with 
him!" 

"September  22.  Liverpool.  Embarked  at  about  ten 
in  the  morning.  Edward  Atkinson,  wife  and  daughter 
on  board,  a  valuable  addition  to  our  resources." 

"September  29.  At  sea.  I  said  in  my  mind:  'There  is 
nothing  in  me  which  can  redeem  me  from  despair  over 
my  poor  life  and  wasted  opportunities.  That  redemp- 
tion which  I  seek  must  be  in  Thee.  There  is  no  prog- 
ress in  the  mere  sense  of  ill-desert.  I  must  pass  on 
from  it  to  better  effort  beyond,  self-reproach  is  nega- 
tive: woe  is  me  that  I  was  born!  Amendment  must 
have  positive  ground.'  I  wrote  some  lines  in  which  a 
bit  of  sea-weed  shining  in  the  sun  seemed  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  light  which  I  hope  to  gain." 

"September  30.  A  performance  of  Jarley's  Wax- 
works in  the  evening  was  much  enjoyed.  Edward 
Atkinson  as  Mrs.  Partington  in  my  witch  hat  recited 
some  merry  nonsense  of  Hood's  about  European 
travel." 

"October  2.  Boston.  In  the  early  morning  John  M. 
Forbes's  yacht,  the  Wild  Duck,  hovered  around  us, 
hoping  to  take  off  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Russell.  .  .  . 
Quite  a  number  of  us  embraced  this  opportunity  with 
gratitude.  .  .  ." 

"October  3.  All  seems  like  a  dream." 

"October  7.  Newport.  I  begin  my  life  here  with  a 
prayer  that  the  prolongation  of  my  days  on  earth  may 
be  for  good  to  myself  and  others,  that  I  may  not  sink 
into  senile  folly  or  grossness,  nor  yet  wander  into 


178  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

aesthetic  conceit,  but  carry  the  weight  of  my  experience 
in  humility,  in  all  charity,  and  in  a  loving  and  service- 
able spirit." 

The  last  entry  in  the  Journal  for  1892  strikes  the 
keynote  of  what  was  to  prove  the  most  absorbing 
interest  of  the  coming  year. 

"December  31.  Farewell,  dear  1892.  You  were 
the  real  quattro  centenary  of  Columbus's  discovery, 
although  we  have  been  so  behind  time  as  not  to  be 
ready  to  celebrate  this  before  1893.  1492  was  indeed 
a  year  momentous  to  humanity." 

To  her  many  cares  was  added  now  work  for  the 
Columbian  Exhibition  at  Chicago.  The  Woman's 
Department  of  the  World's  Fair  was  ably  administered 
by  Mrs.  Potter  Palmer,  who  consulted  her  frequently, 
her  experiences  in  the  New  Orleans  Cotton  Centennial 
proving  useful  in  the  Columbian  Exhibition.  The 
"Twelve-o'Clock  Talks,"  so  successful  in  the  Crescent 
City,  were,  at  her  suggestion,  repeated  at  Chicago, 
and  proved  most  valuable.  The  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Women  and  many  other  associa- 
tions were  to  meet  in  Chicago  this  year.  She  writes 
to  the  Reverend  Jenkin  Lloyd  Jones  concerning  the 
Parliament  of  Religions  and  the  Unitarian  Con- 
gress; to  Aaron  Powell  touching  the  Congress  on  So- 
cial Purity.  There  are  letters,  too,  about  the  Alliance 
of  Unitarian  Women,  the  Congress  of  Representative 
Women,  and  the  Association  of  Women  Ministers 
and  Preachers. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  179 

"January  7.  [Boston.]  To  speak  to  the  Daughters 
of  the  American  Revolution  at  the  house  of  Miss  Re- 
becca W.  Brown.  I  had  dreaded  the  meeting,  feeling 
that  I  must  speak  of  suffrage  in  connection  with  the 
new  womanhood,  and  anticipating  a  cold  or  angry  re- 
ception. What  was  my  surprise  at  finding  my  words, 
which  were  not  many,  warmly  welcomed !  Truly,  the 
hour  is  at  handl" 

"January  8.  To  speak  for  Dr.  Clisby  at  Women's 
Educational  and  Industrial  Union.  I  had  dreaded  this, 
too,  fearing  not  to  interest  my  audience.  The  occasion 
was  very  pleasant  to  me,  and,  I  think,  to  them;  Mrs. 
Waters  endorsed  my  estimate  of  Phillips  Brooks  as  a 
perfectly  disinterested  worker.  Mrs.  Catlin  of  New 
York  agreed  in  my  praise  of  Bishop  Henry  C.  Pofeter 
on  the  same  grounds;  both  also  spoke  well  in  relation 
to  my  most  prominent  point  —  emancipation  from  the 
slavery  of  self." 

"January  23.  Oh!  and  alas!  dear  Phillips  Brooks 
died  suddenly  this  morning  at  half -past  six.  Alas!  for 
Christendom,  which  he  did  so  much  to  unite  by  re- 
deeming his  domain  in  it  from  superstition,  formalism, 
and  uncharity.  Oh!  to  have  such  a  reputation,  and 
deserve  it !  " 

"March  4-  To-day  have  been  allowed  to  visit  the 
study  of  the  late  dear  Bishop  of  Massachusetts.  I  took 
this  pin  from  his  pincushion,  to  keep  for  a  souvenir. 
Made  Rosalind  write  down  the  names  of  a  number  of 
the  books.  The  library  is  a  very  generous  one,  com- 
prising a  large  sweep  of  study  and  opinion.  A  charm- 
ing frieze  over  the  large  window  had  been  painted  by 


180  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Mrs.  Whitman.  We  entered  with  a  reverent  feeling, 
as  if  in  a  sacred  place.  .  .  .  The  dining-room,  and  his 
seat  thereat,  with  portraits  of  his  parents  and  grand- 
father. The  mother  was  of  his  color,  dark  of  eyes  and 
hair,  strong  temperament,  otherwise  no  special  re- 
semblance. His  father  looked  substantial  but  not 
remarkable." 

In  mid-May  she  went  to  Chicago,  to  take  part  in  the 
World's  Congress  of  Representative  Women,  and  in 
many  of  the  other  congresses  and  conferences  of  that 
notable  year. 

"May  16.  Chicago.  Was  appointed  to  preside  to- 
day over  a  Report  Convention  [of  the  above  Con- 
gress] ;  went  to  Room  6  of  the  Art  Palace  and  found 
no  one.  Mrs.  Kennard  came  presently,  and  Mrs. 
Clara  B.  Colby,  who  stood  by  me  bravely  —  when 
about  a  dozen  had  gathered  I  opened  the  meeting. 
Mrs.  Colby  read  reports  for  two  associations,  British, 
I  think.  A  German  delegate  had  a  long  report  written 
in  German,  which  it  would  have  been  useless  for  her 
to  read.  She  accordingly  reported  as  she  was  able,  in 
very  funny  English,  I  helping  her  when  she  was  at  a 
loss  for  a  word.  Her  evident  earnestness  made  a  good 
impression.  I  reported  for  A.A.W.,  partly  in  writ- 
ing, partly  extempore.  In  the  evening  read  my  paper 
on  the  Moral  Initiative  as  regards  Women.  The  hall 
[of  Washington]  was  frightfully  cold." 

"May  17.  Going  to  the  Art  Palace  this  afternoon  I 
found  an  audience  waiting  in  one  of  the  small  halls 
with  no  speaker.  Madame  C.  had  engaged  to  speak  on 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  181 

musical  education.  I  was  requested  to  fill  the  breach, 
which  I  did,  telling  of  the  Boston  Conservatory  of 
Music,  early  music  in  Boston,  and  down  to  our  time. 
Had  an  ovation  afterwards  of  friendly  handshaking." 

"  May  19.  Meeting  of  National  Alliance  of  Unitarian 
Women." 

"  May  27.  My  seventy-fourth  birthday.  Thank  God 
for  my  continued  life,  health,  and  bodily  and  mental 
powers.  My  prayer  to  Him  is  that,  whether  I  am  to 
have  a  year,  a  month,  a  week,  or  a  day  more,  it  may 
be  for  good  to  myself  and  others. 

"Went  to  the  Columbian  Exhibition.  Thomas's 
Orchestra  playing  for  Mrs.  Potter  Palmer's  reception 
given  to  the  women  of  the  Press  Association.  Later  I 
went  into  the  model  kitchen  where  tea  was  served  by 
the  Cingalese.  Mrs.  Palmer  asked  me  to  follow  her 
brief  address  with  a  few  words.  I  did  this  and  told  of 
its  being  my  birthday,  at  which  Mrs.  Palmer  gave  me 
her  bouquet  of  carnations,  and  the  ladies  present  rose 
and  waved  handkerchiefs.  Read  my  sermon  for  to- 
morrow twice  and  feared  it  might  not  strike  a  keynote 
here." 

"May  28.  Rather  nervous  about  getting  to  town  in 
time  for  my  service  at  the  Unitarian  Church,  —  we 
were  in  good  time.  My  mind  was  much  exercised  about 
my  prayer,|  I  having  decided  to  offer  the  longer  one, 
which  I  did,  I  hope,  acceptably.  I  don't  think  that  the 
sermon  told  as  it  did  in  Boston.  The  church  is  not  easy 
to  speak  in.  Mr.  Fenn  said  a  few  words  very  tenderly 
about  his  pleasure  in  receiving  me  into  his  pulpit.  The 
pulpit  roses  were  given  me." 


182  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"May  29.  Went  to  the  Exposition,  where  met  Mrs. 
Charlotte  Emerson  Brown.  Went  with  her  to  her  space 
in  the  Organization  Room.  She  will  receive  and  care 
for  my  exhibits.  Saw  the  very  fine  collection  of  club 
manuals,  histories,  etc."  x 

"  M ay  SO.  Made  a  little  spurt  to  begin  my  screed  for 
Aaron  Powell's  meeting  on  Sunday.  Went  with  dear 
Maud  and  Helen  Gardner  to  the  Fair.  Side-shows  as 
follows :  Cairo  Street,  Cairo  Theatre,  Soudanese  danc- 
ers (very  black  savages  wearing  top  tufts  of  black  hair 
or  wool,  clothed  in  strips  of  dirty  white  cotton  cloth), 
old  Vienna,  dinner  at  Vienna  restaurant.  .  .  . 

"The  Cairo  dancing  was  simply  horrid,  no  touch  of 
grace  in  it,  only  a  most  deforming  movement  of  the 
whole  abdominal  and  lumbar  region.  We  thought  it 
indecent.  The  savages  were  much  better,  though  they 
only  stamp  their  bare  feet  and  clap  their  hands  in 
rhythm  without  music.  One  had  a  curious  smooth 
lyre,  which  seemed  to  give  no  sound.  Their  teeth  were 
beautifully  white  and  regular.  One  of  them  came  up  to 
me  and  said, '  Mamma,'  as  if  to  indicate  my  age.  Then 
into  a  bark  hut,  to  see  the  Soudanese  baby  dance  —  a 
dear  little  child  that  danced  very  funnily  to  a  tum- 
tum." 

Early  June  found  her  back  in  Boston  and  hard  at 
work. 

"June  8.  Finished  my  screed  for  the  July  '  Forum.' 
Subject, '  A  Proper  Observance  of  the  Fourth  of  July.' 
I  have  prayed  over  this  piece  of  work  as  over  all  the 

1  Mrs.  Charlotte  Emerson  Brown  was  at  this  time  president  of  the  Gen- 
eral Federation  of  Women's  Clubs,  and  had  prepared  this  exhibit,  the  6rst 
of  its  kind  in  club  history. 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  183 

others  which  have  been  strung,  one  after  another,  in 
this  busiest  of  years  for  me.  I  have  also  despaired  of  it, 
and  am  not  yet  sure  of  its  acceptance." 

Next  day  she  felt  that  she  "  must  see  the  last  of 
dear  Edwin  Booth."  The  Journal  describes  his  fu- 
neral at  length;  "  the  sun  perfectly  golden  behind  the 
trees."  She  brought  away  a  bit  of  evergreen  from 
the  grave,  and  at  church,  two  days  later,  "  had  the 
sexton  slide  it  in  among  the  pulpit  flowers;  afterward 
brought  it  home.  Perhaps  a  silly  fancy,  but  an  af- 
fectionate one."  She  wrote  a  poem  in  memory  of 
Mr.  Booth,  "not  altogether  to  my  satisfaction." 
She  felt  his  death  as  a  real  loss;  he  remained  always 
to  her  a  beautiful  and  heroic  figure,  connected  with 
a  great  time. 

"June  15.  'Thus  far  the  Lord  has  led  me  on.'  I  have 
had  many  pieces  of  work  to  accomplish,  and  when 
almost  despairing,  seemed  to  have  been  uplifted  right 
into  my  working  seat,  and  so  have  fulfilled  my  tasks 
as  well  as  I  was  able.  Have  still  my  Fourth  of  July 
poem  to  write,  and  wish  to  write  a  poem  in  memory 
of  Edwin  Booth.  I'm  hungry,  oh!  how  hungry,  for 
rest  and  reading.  Must  work  very  hard  for  A.A.W. 
this  season.  ..." 

She  went  to  Harvard  Class  Day  this  summer,  her 
eldest  grandson,  Samuel  Prescott  Hall,  being  of  the 
graduating  class ;  drove  out  to  Cambridge  in  a  pour- 
ing rain,  and  enjoyed  the  occasion.  "  I  saw  my  Boy 
march  with  his  fellows;  when  they  cheered  Weld,  I 
waved  a  napkin." 

The  summer  sped  by  on  wings  of  study  and  work; 


184  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

she  was  lame,  but  that  gave  her  the  more  time  for 
writing.  The  Journal  records  many  letters;  among 
other  things,  "  a  short  screed  for  the  man  who  asks 
to  be  convinced  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  soul." 
In  September  she  spread  other  wings  and  flew  back 
to  Chicago  for  the  Parliament  of  Religions,  and  some 
last  Impressions  of  the  Dream  City  of  the  World's 
Fair. 

"  September  23.  Went  to  the  Parliament  of  Religions 
where  Jenkin  Lloyd  Jones  put  me  on  the  platform. 
Heard  Dr.  Momery,  who  gave  a  pleasant,  liberal,  and 
spirited  address,  a  little  elementary,  as  he  closed  by 
reciting  'Abou  Ben  Adhem,'  which  is  as  familiar  to 
Americans  as  A  B  C.  In  the  evening  went  to  meet,  or 
rather  find,  the  women  ministers.  Miss  Chapin  excused 
herself  from  attending  and  asked  me  to  run  the  meet- 
ing. ...  I  read  my  short  screed,  briefly  narrating  my 
own  efforts  to  found  an  association  of  women  ministers. 
Miss  Putnam  and  Mary  Graves  were  appointed  as 
a  committee  to  consult  with  me  as  to  a  plan  of  organ- 
ization." 

"September  26.  Up  early.  .  .  .  Visited  the  German 
village,  castle  and  museum,  the  mining,  agricultural, 
shoe  and  leather  buildings  for  a  brief  space.  Made  a 
turn  in  the  Ferris  Wheel.  .  .  .  Mary  Graves  came  for 
me,  and  we  started  for  the  Parliament  in  good  time. 
The  first  speaker  was  intolerably  narrow  and  out  of 
place,  insisting  upon  the  hostility  of  Christ  to  all  ethnic 
religions.  I  could  not  refrain  from  taking  him  up  a 
little,  very  mildly.  I  was  received  with  applause  and 
the  Chautauqua  salute,  and  my  brief  speech  (fourteen 


A  SUMMER  ABROAD  185 

minutes  without  notes)  was  much  applauded.    I  was 
very  thankful  for  this  opportunity." 

This  impromptu  speech  made  a  deep  impression. 
In  the  newspaper  reports  great  stress  was  laid  on  it, 
with  singular  result.  She  was  amazed  next  day  to  hear 
her  name  roared  out  in  the  Midway  Plaisance  by  a 
touter  who  stood  at  the  gateway  of  one  of  the  side- 
shows where  some  Orientals  were  at  prayer. 

"Come  in,  all  ye  Christian  people,"  the  man  cried. 
"Come  in  and  see  these  devout  Mohammedans  at 
their  devotions.  Julia  Ward  Howe  has  knocked  the 
orthodoxy  into  a  cocked  hat." 

The  quiet  little  figure,  passing  in  the  motley  throng, 
paused  for  a  moment  and  looked  with  astonishment 
into  the  touter's  face,  which  gave  no  sign  of  recogni- 
tion. 

"This,"  said  a  friend,  who  happened  to  come  up  at 
the  moment,  —  "  this  is  fame!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES" 

1890-1896;  ad.  71-77 

A  DREAM  OF  THE  HEARTHSTONE 

A  figure  by  my  fireside  stayed, 
Plain  was  her  garb,  and  veiled  her  face; 
A  presence  mystical  she  made, 
Nor  changed  her  attitude,  nor  place. 

Did  I  neglect  my  household  ways 
For  pleasure,  wrought  of  pen  or  book? 
She  sighed  a  murmur  of  dispraise, 
At  which,  methought,  the  rafters  shook. 

"  Now,  who  art  thou  that  didst  not  smile 
When  I  my  maddest  jest  devised? 
Who  art  thou,  stark  and  grim  the  while 
That  men  my  time  and  measure  prized?' 

Without  her  pilgrim  staff  she  rose, 
Her  weeds  of  darkness  cast  aside; 
More  dazzling  than  Olympian  snows 
The  beauty  that  those  weeds  did  hide. 

Most  like  a  solemn  symphony 
That  lif ts  the  heart  from  lowly  things, 
The  voice  with  which  she  spake  to  me 
Did  loose  contrition  at  its  springs. 

"Oh,  Duty!  Visitor  Divine, 
Take  all  the  wealth  my  house  affords, 
But  make  thy  holy  methods  mine; 
Speak  to  me  thy  surpassing  words! 

"  Neglected  once  and  undiscerned, 
I  pour  my  homage  at  thy  feet. 
Till  I  thy  sacred  law  have  learned 
Nor  joy,  nor  life  can  be  complete." 


J.  W.  H. 


In  the  closing  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century  a 
new  growth  of  "causes"  claimed  her  time  and  sym- 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  187 

pathy.  The  year  1891  saw  the  birth  of  the  Society 
of  American  Friends  of  Russian  Freedom;  modelled 
on  a  similar  society  which,  with  "Free  Russia"  as  its 
organ,  was  doing  good  work  in  England. 

The  object  of  the  American  society  was  "to  aid  by 
all  moral  and  legal  means  the  Russian  patriots  in  their 
efforts  to  obtain  for  their  country  political  freedom 
and  self-government."  Its  circular  was  signed  by 
Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson,  Julia  Ward  Howe, 
John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  James  Russell  Lowell,  George 
Kennan,  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  Henry  I.  Bowditch, 
F.  W.  Bird,  Alice  Freeman  Palmer,  Charles  G.  Ames, 
Edward  L.  Pierce,  Frank  B.  Sanborn,  Annie  Fields, 
E.  Benjamin  Andrews,  Lillie  B.  Chace  Wyman,  Sam- 
uel L.  Clemens,  and  Joseph  H.  Twitchell. 

James  Russell  Lowell,  writing  to  Francis  J.  Garrison 
in  1891,  says:  "Between  mote  and  beam,  I  think  this 
time  Russia  has  the  latter  in  her  eye,  though  God 
knows  we  have  motes  enough  in  ours.  So  you  may  take 
my  name  even  if  it  be  in  vain,  as  I  think  it  will  be." 

It  was  through  this  society  that  she  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Mme.  Breschkovskaya,1  the  Russian 
patriot  whose  sufferings  and  sacrifices  have  endeared 
her  to  all  lovers  of  freedom.  The  two  women  felt 
instant  sympathy  with  each  other.  Mme.  Breschkov- 
skaya came  to  241  Beacon  Street  more  than  once, 
and  they  had  much  talk  together.  On  one  of  these 
occasions  our  mother  was  asked  to  play  some  of  her 
own  compositions.  Her  fingers  strayed  from  one  thing 

1  Now  (1915)  a  political  prisoner  in  Siberia:   she  escaped,  but  was 
recaptured  and  later  removed  to  a  more  remote  place  of  imprisonment. 


188  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

to  another;  finally,  on  a  sudden  impulse,  she  struck  the 
opening  chords  of  the  Russian  National  Hymn.  Mme. 
Breschkovskaya  started  forward.  "Ah,  madame!" 
she  cried,  "do  not  play  that!  You  cannot  know  what 
that  air  means  to  us  Russians!" 

At  a  great  meeting  in  Faneuil  Hall  the  two  spoke, 
in  English  and  Russian  respectively,  while  other  ad- 
dresses were  in  Yiddish  and  Polish.  All  were  fran- 
tically applauded  by  the  polyglot  audience  which 
filled  the  hall  to  overflowing.  William  Dudley  Foulke 
presided  at  this  meeting.  Speaking  with  our  mother 
several  years  later,  he  reminded  her  of  the  occasion, 
which  he  thought  might  have  been  of  a  somewhat 
anarchistic  tendency.  He  was  not  sure,  he  said,  that 
they  had  not  made  fools  of  themselves.  "One  can 
afford,"  she  replied,  "to  make  a  very  great  fool  of 
one's  self  in  such  a  cause  as  that  of  Russian  liberty!" 

The  year  1891  saw  the  birth  of  another  society  in 
which  she  was  deeply  interested,  the  Women's  Rest 
Tour  Association,  whose  object  was  "simply  to  make 
it  easier  for  women  who  need  a  trip  abroad  to  take 
one. 

It  was  proved  "that  the  sum  of  $250  was  sufficient 
to  enable  a  woman  of  simple  tastes  to  enjoy  a  summer's 
vacation  in  Europe" ;  a  travelling  fund  was  established 
from  which  women  could  borrow,  or  —  in  certain  cases 
—  receive  gifts;  a  handbook  was  issued,  etc.,  etc. 

In  an  unobtrusive  way,  the  Women's  Rest  Tour 
Association  did  and  continues  to  do  much  good.  She 
was  its  president  to  the  close  of  her  life,  and  in  silent 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  189 

and  lovely  tribute  to  her  memory  the  office  has  since 
then  remained  vacant. 

In  the  early  nineties  all  Christendom  was  aroused 
by  the  outrages  committed  by  the  Turks  in  Armenia. 
From  almost  every  Christian  country  rose  a  cry  of 
horror:  indignation  meetings  were  called;  protest, 
denunciation,  and  appeal  were  the  order  of  the  day. 
In  Boston  a  meeting  was  held  at  Faneuil  Hall  (No- 
vember 26,  1894),  called  together  by  the  Boston 
Armenian  Relief  Committee.  She  was  on  the  plat- 
form, and  spoke  from  her  heart. 

"I  could  not,"  she  says,  "stay  away  from  this  meet- 
ing. My  heart  was  here,  and  I  came,  not  so  much  to 
speak,  as  to  hear  what  is  to  be  done  about  this  dreadful 
trouble.  For  something  must  be  done.  I  have  to  pray 
God  night  and  morning  that  He  would  find  some  way 
to  stay  this  terrible  tide  of  slaughter.  .  .  . 

"I  recall  the  first  action  of  Florence  Nightingale 
when  she  went  to  take  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded  in 
the  Crimean  War.  She  found  many  things  wanting  for 
the  comfort  of  the  soldiers  in  the  hospitals,  but  she 
could  not  get  at  them.  Some  seal  or  mandate  was 
waited  for.  'The  men  are  suffering,'  Florence  Nightin- 
gale said.  'Break  in  the  doors  —  open  the  boxes — give 
me  the  blankets  and  medicines.  I  must  have  them ! '  — 
and  so  she  did.  Now,  the  fleets  of  the  Western  nations 
are  waiting  for  some  diplomatic  development  which 
shall  open  the  way  for  action.  I  think  that  we,  the 
United  States  of  America,  are  now  called  upon  to  play 
the  part  of  Florence  Nightingale;  to  take  our  stand 
and  insist  upon  it  that  the  slaughter  shall  cease.   Oh! 


190  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

let  us  give  money,  let  us  give  life,  but  let  us  stand  by 
our  principles  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  I  am  sure 
that  if  we  do  so,  we  shall  have  behind  us,  and  with  us, 
that  great  spirit  which  has  been  in  the  world  for  nine- 
teen centuries  past,  with  ever-increasing  power.  Let 
us  set  up  in  these  distant  lands  the  shelter  of  the 
blessed  Cross,  and  of  all  that  it  stands  for,  and  let  us 
make  it  availing  once  and  forever." 

Soon  after  this  the  Friends  of  Armenia  organized  as 
a  society,  she  being  its  president.  Among  its  members 
were  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  Henry  Blackwell  and 
his  devoted  daughter  Alice,  and  M.  H.  Gulesian. 
Singly  or  in  company  they  went  about,  through  Massa- 
chusetts, holding  meetings,  rousing  the  people  to  aid 
in  the  protest  of  Christendom  against  heathendom,  of 
mercy  against  cruelty.  "Spoke  for  Armenia,"  is  a 
frequent  entry  in  the  Journal  of  these  days. 

In  one  of  these  addresses  she  said :  — 

"It  may  be  asked,  where  is  the  good  of  our  assem- 
bling here?  what  can  a  handful  of  us  effect  against  this 
wicked  and  remorseless  power,  so  far  beyond  our  reach, 
so  entrenched  in  the  selfishness  of  European  nations 
who  are  the  creditors  of  the  bankrupt  state,  and  who 
keep  her  alive  in  the  hope  of  recovering  the  debt  which 
she  owes  them?  The  walls  of  this  old  hall  should  an- 
swer this  question.  They  saw  the  dawn  of  our  own 
larger  liberties.  They  heard  the  first  indignant  plea  of 
Wendell  Phillips  when,  in  the  splendor  of  his  youth, 
he  took  the  field  for  the  emancipation  of  a  despised 
race  which  had  no  friends.  So,  on  this  sacred  arena,  I 
throw  down  the  glove  which  challenges  the  Turkish 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  191 

Government  to  its  dread  account.  What  have  we  for 
us  in  this  contest?  The  spirit  of  civilization,  the  sense 
of  Christendom,  the  heart  of  humanity.  All  of  these 
plead  for  justice,  all  cry  out  against  barbarous  war- 
fare of  which  the  victims  are  helpless  men,  tender 
women  and  children.  We  invoke  here  the  higher  pow- 
ers of  humanity  against  the  rude  instincts  in  which  the 
brute  element  survives  and  rules. 

"Aid  us,  paper,  aid  us,  pen, 
Aid  us,  hearts  of  noble  men ! 

Aid  us,  shades  of  champions  who  have  led  the  world's 
progress!  Aid  us,  thou  who  hast  made  royal  the 
scourge  and  crown  of  thorns!" 

After  hearing  these  words,  Frederick  Greenhalge, 
then  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  said  to  her,  "Ah, 
Mrs.  Howe,  you  have  given  us  a  prose  Battle  Hymn!" 

The  Friends  of  Armenia  did  active  and  zealous  serv- 
ice through  a  number  of  years,  laboring  not  only  for 
the  saving  of  life,  but  for  the  support  and  education 
of  the  thousands  of  women  and  orphans  left  desolate. 
Schools  and  hospitals  were  established  in  Armenia,, 
and  many  children  were  placed  in  American  homes, 
where  they  grew  up  happily,  to  citizenship. 

Nearly  ten  years  later,  a  new  outbreak  of  Turkish 
ferocity  roused  the  "Friends"  to  new  fervor,  and  once 
again  her  voice  was  lifted  up  in  protest  and  appeal. 
She  wrote  to  President  Roosevelt,  imploring  him  to 
send  some  one  from  some  neighboring  American  con- 
sulate to  investigate  conditions.  He  did  so,  and  his 
action  prevented  an  impending  massacre. 

In  1909,  fresh  persecutions  brought  the  organization 


192  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

once  more  together.  The  Armenians  of  Boston  re- 
minded her  of  the  help  she  had  given  before,  and  asked 
her  to  write  to  President  Taft.  This  she  promptly  did. 
Briefly,  this  cause  with  so  many  others  was  to  be 
relinquished  only  with  life  itself. 

On  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Journal  for  1894  is  written: 
"  I  take  possession  of  the  New  Year  in  the  name  of 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  J.  W.  Howe." 

"  Head  bewildered  with  correspondence,  bills,  etc. 
Must  get  out  of  this  or  die." 

"  A  threatening  head,  and  a  week  before  me  full  of 
functions.  I  feel  weak  in  mind  and  dazed  with  confu- 
sions, but  will  trust  in  God  and  keep  my  powder  dry." 

"  Hearing  on  Suffrage,  Green  Room,  10  a.m.  My 
mind  was  unusually  clear  for  this  speaking.  I  deter- 
mined to  speak  of  the  two  sorts  of  people,  those 
who  naturally  wish  to  keep  the  best  things  for  them- 
selves, and  those  whose  appreciation  of  these  things 
is  such  that  they  cannot  refrain  from  spreading  them 
abroad,  giving  freely  as  they  have  received.  I  was  able 
to  follow  and  apply  this  tolerably  in  my  ten-minute 
speech.  .  .  ." 

"Annual  meeting  of  Rest  Tour  Association;  a  de- 
lightful meeting,  full  of  good  suggestions.  I  made 
one  concerning  pilgrimages  in  groups.  ...  I  had  a 
sudden  glimpse  to-day  of  the  unfailing  goodness  of 
God.  This  and  not  our  merits  brings  the  pardon  of 
our  sins." 

"  To  hear  Irving  in  '  Louis  XI ';  a  strong  play  and  a 
good  part  for  him.  Left  after  Act  Fourth  to  attend 
Mrs.  Gardner's  musicale,  at  which  Busoni  pounded 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  193 

fearfully.  I  said,  '  He  ought  to  play  with  his  boots 
on  his  hands.'  He  played  two  curious  compositions  of 
Liszt's :  St.  Francis's  Sermon  to  the  Birds  and  to  the 
Fishes  —  much  roaring  as  of  old  ocean  in  the  second." 

"  Boston.  Attended  Mrs.  Mary  Hemenway's  funeral 
in  the  morning.  ...  A  great  loss  she  is,  but  her  life  has 
been  a  great  gain.  Would  that  more  rich  men  had 
such  daughters!  That  more  rich  women  had  such  a 
heart!  .  .  ." 

"  C.  G.  A.  preached  a  funeral  sermon  on  Mrs. 
Hemenway.  As  he  opened  his  lips,  I  said  to  myself, 
'  What  can  he  teach  us  that  her  life  has  not  taught  us?  ' 
The  sermon,  however,  was  most  instructive.  Such  a 
life  makes  an  epoch,  and  should  establish  a  precedent. 
If  one  woman  can  be  so  disinterested  and  so  wise, 
others  can  emulate  her  example.  I,  for  one,  feel  that  I 
shall  not  forget  this  forcible  presentation  of  the  aspect 
of  such  a  character,  of  such  a  history.  God  send  that 
her  mantle  may  fall  upon  this  whole  community,  stim- 
ulating each  to  do  what  he  or  she  can  for  humanity." 

To  Maud 

241  Beacon  Street,  April  21,  1894. 
MY   DEAREST   DEAR    CHILD,  

.  .  .  Let  me  tell  you  of  the  abolition  of  the  old  Fast 
Day  and  of  the  new  holiday,  April  19,  ordained  in  its 
stead.  This,  you  may  remember,  is  the  anniversary  of 
the  Battle  of  Lexington.  The  celebration  here  was 
quite  on  a  grand  scale.  The  bells  of  the  old  North 
Church  were  rung  and  the  lanterns  hung  out.  A  horse- 
man, personating  Paul  Revere,  rode  out  to  rouse  the 


194  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

farmers  of  Concord  and  Lexington,  and  a  sham  fight, 
imitating  the  real  one,  actually  came  off  with  an  im- 
mense concourse  of  spectators.  The  Daughters  of  the 
American  Revolution  had  made  me  promise  to  go  to 
their  celebration  at  the  Old  South,  where  I  sat  upon 
the  platform  with  Mrs.  Sam  Eliot,  Regent,  and  with 
the  two  orators  of  the  day,  Professor  Channing  and 
Edward  Hale.  I  wore  the  changeable  silk  that  Jenny 
Nelson  made,  the  Gardner  cashmere,  and  the  bonnet 
which  little  you  made  for  me  last  summer.  McAlvin 
refreshed  it  a  little,  and  it  looked  most  proud.  Sam 
Eliot,  who  presided,  said  to  me,  "  Why,  Julia,  you  look 
like  the  queen  that  I  said  you  were,  long  ago.  If  I  could 
do  so,  I  would  introduce  you  as  the  Queen."  I  tell  you 
all  this  in  order  that  you  may  know  that  I  was  all  right 
as  to  appearance.  I  was  to  read  a  poem,  but  had  not 
managed  to  compose  one,  so  I  copied  out "  Our  Coun- 
try "  from  "  Later  Lyrics,"  and  read  it  as  I  was  never 
able  to  read  it  before.  For  the  first  time,  it  told  upon 
the  audience.  This  was  because  it  was  especially  appro- 
priate to  the  occasion.  .  .  . 

"  May  11.  Opposed  the  dispensing  with  the  reading 
of  State  Reports.  The  maker  of  the  motion  said  that 
we  could  read  these  at  home.  I  said,  c  Yes,  and  we  can 
read  the  Bible  at  home,  but  we  like  to  go  to  church 
and  hear  it  read.'  Finished  my  screed  for  this  evening 
and  licked  my  Columbus  poem  into  shape,  the  dear 
Lord  helping  me." 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  195 

To  Maud 

Plainfield,  N.J.,  May  16,  1894. 

My  dearest  Maud, — 

.  .  .  First  place,  I  had  a  visit  from  Laura.  We  threw 
the  ball  daily,  and  had  lunches  and  punches.  We 
went  to  hear  de  Koven's  "  Robin  Hood,"  the  music  of 
which  is  strongly  reminiscent,  and  also  saw  Mounet- 
Sully's  "  Hamlet,"  a  very  wonderful  piece  of  acting. 
Flossy  and  I  had  three  days  of  conventioning  in  Phil- 
adelphia, last  week.  Flossy's  little  speech  was  one  of 
the  best  at  the  convention,  and  was  much  applauded. 
I  was  received  on  all  hands  with  affectionate  good- 
will. .  .  .  There  seemed  to  be,  among  the  Eastern 
women,  a  desire  to  make  me  president  [of  the  Gen- 
eral Federation  of  Women's  Clubs].  This  I  imme- 
diately put  out  of  the  question  and  Mrs.  Cheney  stood 
by  me,  saying  that  Massachusetts  would  not  see  me 
killed  with  work.  It  would  indeed  have  been  out  of 
the  question,  as  the  position  is  probably  one  of  great 
labor  and  responsibility.  .  .  .  1 

Your  motherest  Mother. 

The  Seventy-fifth  Birthday  brought  the  customary 
festivities.  The  newspapers  sent  reporters;  she  had 
a  word  for  each.  To  the  representative  of  the  "Ad- 
vertiser," she  said,  "I  think  that  I  enjoy  the  coming 
of  old  age  with  its  peacef ulness,  like  the  going  down 
of  the  sun.  It  is  very  lovely !  I  am  so  glad  to  be  remem- 
bered by  so  many.  The  twilight  of  life  is  indeed  a 
pleasant  season! " 


196  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

To  Maud 

241  Beacon  Street,  May  31,  1894. 
My  dearest  Child,  — 

I  send  you  a  budget  of  tributes  to  my  birthday.  The 
"  Springfield  Republican  "  has  a  bit  about  it,  with  a 
good  and  gratifying  poem  from  Sanborn.  Really,  dear, 
between  you  and  me  what  a  old  humbug  it  is !  But  no 
matter  —  if  people  will  take  me  for  much  better  than 
I  am,  I  can't  help  it,  and  must  only  try  to  live  up  to 
my  reputation.  ...  I  received  a  good  letter  from  you, 
"  a  little  scolding  at  first,"  but  "  soft  rebukes  with 
blessings  ended,"  as  Longfellow  describes  the  admoni- 
tions of  his  first  wife.  ...  At  the  Suffrage  Festival, 
Governor  Long  presided,  and  in  introducing  me  waved 
a  branch  of  lilies,  saying,  "  In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies 
she  is  still,  at  seventy-five."  Now  that  I  call  hand- 
some, don't  you?  .  .  . 

Flossy  had  a  very  successful  afternoon  tea  while 
I  was  with  her.  She  had  three  ladies  of  the  Civitas 
Club  and  invited  about  one  hundred  of  her  neighbors 
to  hear  them  read  papers.  It  was  n't  suffrage,  but  it 
was  good  government,  which  is  about  the  same  thing. 
The  parlors  looked  very  pretty.  I  should  think  seventy 
or  eighty  came  and  all  were  delighted.  Did  I  write 
you  that  at  Philadelphia  she  made  the  most  admired 
speech  of  the  occasion?  She  wore  the  brocade,  finely 
made  over,  with  big  black  velvet  top  sleeves  and 
rhinestone  comb,  and  they  'plauded  and  'plauded, 
and  I  sat,  grinning  like  a  chessy  cat,  oh!  so  welly 
pleased. 


"DIVERS  GOOD   CAUSES"  197 

"  July  1.  [Oak  Glen.]  Despite  my  severe  fatigue  went 
in  town  to  church;  desired  in  my  mind  to  have  some 
good  abiding  thought  given  me  to  work  for  and  live 
by.  The  best  thought  that  came  to  me  was  something 
like  this :  we  are  careful  of  our  fortune  and  of  our  repu- 
tation. We  are  not  careful  enough  of  our  lives.  Society 
is  built  of  these  lives  in  which  each  should  fit  his  or  her 
place,  like  a  stone  fitly  joined  by  the  builder.  We  die, 
but  the  life  we  have  lived  remains,  and  helps  to  build 
society  well  or  ill.  Later  on  I  thought  that  it  some- 
times seems  as  if  a  rope  or  chain  of  mercy  would  be  let 
down  to  pull  some  of  us  out  of  sin  and  degradation,  out 
of  the  Hell  of  passion.  If  we  have  taken  hold  of  it  and 
have  been  rescued,  shall  we  not  work  to  have  others 
drawn  up  with  us?  At  such  moments,  I  remember  my 
old  wish  to  speak  to  the  prisoners,  never  fully  realized." 

"  August  13.  Finished  my  poem  for  the  Bryant 
Centenary,  of  which  I  have  despaired;  my  mind  has 
seemed  dull  of  late,  and  I  have  had  a  hard  time  with 
this  poem,  writing  what  appeared  to  me  bald-doggerel, 
with  no  uniting  thought.  In  these  last  three  days,  I 
have  hammered  upon  it,  and  bettered  it,  coming  in 
sight  of  a  better  vein  and  to-day,  not  without  prayerful 
effort,  I  got  it  about  ready,  D.G." 

To  Maud 

Oak  Glen,  August  27,  1894. 
.  .  .  An  interesting  French  gentleman  has  been  giv- 
ing readings  at  Mrs.  Coleman's.  He  read  us  Corneille's 
"Cid"  last  evening  with  much  dash  and  spirit.   It  is 
a  famous  play,  but  the  sentiment  is  very  stilted,  like 


198  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

going  up  a  ladder  to  shave  one's  self.  I  was  at  Provi- 
dence on  Friday  to  meet  a  literary  club  of  ladies.  I 
read  to  them  the  greater  part  of  my  play,  "Hippol- 
ytus,"  written  the  summer  before  Sammy  was  born, 
for  Edwin  Booth.  It  seemed  very  ghostly  to  go  back 
to  the  ambitions  of  that  time,  but  the  audience,  a 
parlor  one,  expressed  great  satisfaction.  ...  I  'f esses 
that  I  did  attend  the  Bryant  Centenary  Festival  at 
Cummington,  Mass.  I  read  a  poem  written  for  the 
occasion.  Charles  Dudley  Warner  and  Charles  Eliot 
Norton  were  there,  and  Parke  Godwin  presided. 

"August  31.  To  Newport  with  Flossy,  taking  my 
screed  with  me,  to  the  meeting  of  Colonial  Dames,  at 
the  rooms  of  the  Historical  Society,  one  of  which  is  the 
old  Seventh-Day  Baptist  Church,  which  my  great- 
grandfather, Governor  Samuel  Ward,  used  to  attend. 
.  .  .  Bishop  Clarke  made  the  closing  address,  full  of 
good  sense,  sentiment  and  wit  —  a  wonderful  man  for 
eighty-two  years  of  age." 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  September  6,  1894. 

Q.  What  has  been  your  mother's  treatment  of  you 
latterly? 

Ans.  Quite  devilish,  thank  you. 

Q.  Has  her  conduct  this  past  season  been  worse 
than  usual? 

Ans.  Much  as  usual.  I  regret  to  say,  could  n't  be 
worse. 

(Family  Catechism  for  1894.) 


o 
3 

*  1 

1-1  >» 

O  .2 

°  s 

«  "5* 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  199 

Oh!  I've  got  a  day  to  myself,  and  I've  got  some 
chillen,  and  I  'm  going  to  write  to  'em,  you  bet. 

You  see,  Laura  E.,  of  the  plural  name  of  Dick,  there 
warn't  no  summer,  only  one  of  those  patent,  boiled- 
down  contrivances,  all  shrivelled  up,  which  if  you  puts 
them  in  water,  they  swells  out,  but  there  warn't  no 
water  (Encycl.  Brit.,  Article  "Drought");  and  so  the 
dried-up  thing  did  n't  swell,  and  there  warn't  no 
summer,  and  that  is  why  you  have  n't  heard  from  me. 
...  I'm  sorry,  anyhow,  that  I  can't  allow  you  the 
luxury  of  one  moment's  grievance  against  me,  but  I 
can't;  I  may,  now  and  then,  forget  to  write  ("  !  !  !  !" 
says  L.  E.  R.),  but  I  'dores  you  all  the  same.  I  carry 
the  sweet  cheer  of  your  household  through  all  my 
life.  Am  drefful  glad  that  you  have  been  to  camp  this 
season;  wish  I  could  go  myself.  Only  think  of  Celia 
Thaxter's  death!  I  can  hardly  believe  it,  she  always 
seemed  so  full  of  life.  .  .  . 

"September  28.  Here  begins  for  me  a  new  period.  I 
have  fulfilled  as  well  as  I  could  the  tasks  of  the  sum- 
mer, and  must  now  have  a  little  rest,  a  day  or  so,  and 
then  begin  in  good  earnest  to  prepare  for  the  autumn 
and  winter  work,  in  which  A.A.W.  comes  first,  and 
endless  correspondence." 

To  Maud 
241  Beacon  Street,  December  19,  1894. 

Last  Sunday  evening  I  spoke  in  Trinity  Church, 
having  been  invited  to  do  so  by  the  rector,  Dr.  Donald. 
Wonders  will  never  cease.   The  meeting  was  in  behalf 


200  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

of  the  colored  school  at  Tuskegee,  which  we  A.A.W.'s 
visited  after  our  Congress.  I  dressed  myself  with  un- 
usual care.  Dr.  Donald  gave  me  the  place  of  honor 
and  took  me  in  and  upon  the  platform  in  the  chancel 
where  we  all  sat.  Governor  Greenhalge  was  the  first 
speaker.  I  came  about  fourth,  and  to  my  surprise  was 
distinctly  heard  all  over  the  house.  You  may  easily 
imagine  that  I  enjoyed  this  very  much,  although  it 
was  rather  an  anxious  moment  when  I  stepped  forward 
to  speak.  .  .  .  We  are  all  much  shocked  at  the  death 
of  dear  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  of  which  you  will 
have  heard  before  this  reaches  you.  What  a  loss  to 
literature! 

"January  1,  1895.  I  was  awake  very  early  and 
made  the  prayer  that  during  this  year  I  might  not  say 
one  uncharitable  word,  or  be  guilty  of  one  ungenerous 
action." 

"January  6.  .  .  .  My  afternoon  service  at  the  Wo- 
men's Educational  and  Industrial  Union.  .  .  .  The  day 
was  very  stormy  and  Mrs.  Lee  met  me  at  the  carriage, 
offering  to  excuse  me  from  speaking  to  the  five  persons 
who  were  in  attendance.  I  felt  not  to  disappoint  those 
five,  and  presently  twenty-three  were  present,  and  we 
had  a  pleasant  talk,  after  the  reading  of  the  short 
sermon." 

"January  8.  .  .  .  Felt  much  discouraged  at  waking, 
the  long  vista  of  work  opening  out  before  me,  each 
task  calling  for  some  original  brain-work,  I  mean  for 
some  special  thought  worth  presenting  to  an  audience. 
While  I  puzzled,  a  thought  came  to  me  for  this  day's 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  201 

suffrage  speech:  'The  kingdom  cometh  not  with  obser- 
vation.' The  silent,  gradual,  wonderful  growth  of 
public  sentiment  regarding  woman  suffrage,  the 
spreading  sense  of  the  great  universal  harmony  which 
Christ  delivered  to  us  in  the  words  and  acts  of  a  few 
years,  and  which,  it  seems  to  me,  is  only  now  begin- 
ning to  make  itself  generally  felt  and  to  shape  the 
world's  councils  increasingly." 

"January  25.  I  awoke  this  morning  overwhelmed 
by  the  thought  of  my  lecture  at  Salem,  which  I  have 
not  written.  Suddenly  a  line  of  my  own  came  to  me, 
'Had  I  one  of  thy  words,  my  Master,'  and  this  brought 
me  the  train  of  thought,  which  I  shall  endeavor  to 
present.  The  one  word  which  we  all  have  is  '  charity.' 
I  wrote  quite  a  screed  and  with  that  and  some  speak- 
ing shall  get  through,  I  hope.  .  .  .  Got  a  good  lead  of 
thought  and  felt  that  I  could  supply  extempore  what 
I  had  not  time  to  write.  Harry  and  Fanny  had  a 
beautiful  dinner  for  Lady  Henry  Somerset." 

"  January  26.  Lunch  and  lecture  in  Salem.  A  dread- 
ful storm;  I  felt  that  I  must  go.  The  hackman  and  I 
rolled  down  the  steps  of  the  house,  he,  fortunately  for 
me,  undermost  and  quite  stout  of  person;  otherwise 
the  shock  would  have  been  severe  and  even  dan- 
gerous. ..." 

[N.B.  The  terrified  hackman,  picking  himself  up, 
found  her  already  on  her  feet. 

"Oh!  Mrs.  Howe,"  he  cried,  "let  me  help  you  into 
the  house!" 

"Nonsense!"  was  the  reply.  "I  have  just  time  to 
catch  my  train!"] 


202  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

To  Maud 
241  Beacon  Street,  February  24,  1895. 
I  lost  a  good  lecture  engagement  at  Poughkeepsie 
through  a  blizzard.  Did  not  start,  finding  that  roads 
were  badly  blocked.  My  engagement  at  Brooklyn  was 
a  good  one  —  a  hundred  dollars.  I  stayed  at  Chanler 
house,  which  was  Chanleresque  as  usual.  Peter  Marie 
gave  me  a  fine  dinner.  Margaret  went  with  me,  in 
white  satin.  I  wore  my  black  and  white  which  you 
remember  well.  It  still  looks  well  enough.  I  wore  some 
beautiful  lace  which  I  got,  through  dear  sister  Annie, 
from  some  distressed  lace  woman  in  England.  I  went 
to  New  York  by  a  jive-hour  train,  Godkin  of  the 
"Nation"  taking  care  of  me.  He  remembers  your  kind 
attentions  to  him  when  you  met  him  in  the  Pullman 
with  a  broken  ankle. 

"March  30.  ...  I  awoke  very  early  this  morning, 
with  a  head  so  confused  that  I  thought  my  brain  had 
given  out,  at  least  from  the  recent  overstrain.  .  .  . 
Twice  I  knelt  and  prayed  that  God  would  give  me 
the  use  of  my  mind.  An  hour  in  sleep  did  something 
towards  this  and  a  good  cup  of  tea  put  me  quite  on 
my  feet.  ..." 

"April  8.  In  the  late  afternoon  Harry,  my  son, 
came,  and  after  some  little  preparation  told  me  of  the 
death  of  my  dear  sister  Annie.  I  have  been  toiling 
and  moiling  to  keep  the  engagements  of  this  week,  but 
here  comes  the  great  silence,  and  I  must  keep  it  for 
some  days  at  least.  ..." 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  203 

"April  10.  ...  It  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  this 
might  be  the  hour,  as  this  would  surely  be  the  day  of 
dear  Annie's  funeral.  So  I  found  the  90th  Psalm  and 
the  chapter  in  Corinthians,  and  sat  and  read  them  be- 
fore her  picture,  remembering  also  Tennyson's  lines :  — 

" '  And  Ave,  Ave,  Ave  said 
Adieu,  adieu,  forever  more.'" 

To  Laura 

241  Beacon  Street,  April  14,  1895. 
Buona  Pasqua,  dear  Child  !  — 

...  I  feel  thankful  that  my  darling  died  in  her  own 
home,  apparently  without  suffering,  and  in  the  bosom 
of  her  beloved  family.  She  has  lived  out  her  sweet 
life,  and  while  the  loss  to  all  who  loved  her  is  great, 
we  must  be  willing  to  commit  our  dear  ones  to  God, 
as  we  commit  ourselves.  The  chill  of  age,  no  doubt, 
prevents  my  feeling  as  I  should  once  have  done,  and 
the  feeling  that  she  has  only  passed  in  a  little  before 
me,  lessens  the  sense  of  separation. 

12.25.  I  have  been  to  our  Easter  service,  which 
I  found  very  comforting  and  elevating,  though  it 
brought  some  tears,  of  which  I  have  not  shed  many, 
being  now  past  the  age  at  which  they  flow  freely.  I 
thought  a  good  deal  of  the  desolate  Easter  at  the  ranch. 
For  them,  too,  let  us  hope  that  the  blessed  season  has 
brought  comforting  thoughts.  ...  I  went  too  to  a 
Good  Friday  service  at  the  new  Old  South,  at  which 
Dr.  Donald  of  Trinity,  Cuckson  of  Arlington  [Uni- 
tarian] and  Gordon,  orthodox  [Congregational],  each 
took  part.   It  was  such  an  earnest,  a  reconciled  and 


204  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

unified  Christendom  as  I  am  thankful  to  have  lived 
to  see. 

Love  and  blessings  to  you  and  yours,  dear  child. 

Affect., 

Mother. 

"May  20.  Have  writ  a  brief  letter  to  Mary  G.  Hen- 
nessey, Dixon,  Illinois.  She  intends  to  speak  of  me  in 
her  graduation  address  and  wanted  me  to  send  her 
'a  vivid  history  of  my  life,'  with  my  'ideas  of  literary 
work.'  I  declined  the  first,  but  sent  a  bit  under  the 
last  head." 

"May  27.  .  .  .  Suffrage  meeting  in  the  evening.  I 
presided  and  began  with,  'Sixty  years  ago  to-day  I  was 
sixteen  years  old.  If  I  only  knew  now  what  I  thought 
I  knew  then 'I" 

11  June  2.  .  .  .  To  communion  in  afternoon.  The 
minister  asked  whether  I  would  speak.  I  told  what  I 
had  felt  as  I  entered  the  church  that  afternoon,  'a  sort 
of  realization  of  the  scene  in  that  upper  chamber,  its 
gloom  and  its  glory.  What  was  in  that  great  heart 
whose  pulsations  have  made  themselves  felt  down  to 
our  own  time,  and  all  over  the  world?  What  are  its 
sorrows?  It  bore  the  burthen  of  the  sorrows  and  dis- 
tresses of  humanity,  and  we  who  pledge  him  here  in 
this  cup  are  bound  to  bear  our  part  of  that  burthen. 
Only  thus  shall  we  attain  to  share  in  that  festival 
of  joy  and  of  revealed  power  which  followed  the  days 
of  doubt  and  despair.' 

"All  this  came  to  me  like  a  flash.  I  have  written  it 
down  from  memory  because  I  value  the  thought."  _ 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  £05 

"June  15.  Attended  the  funeral  of  my  old  friend 
and  helper,  Dr.  Williams,  the  oculist.  .  .  .  Six  stalwart 
sons  carried  the  coffin.  ...  I  thought  this :  *  I  am  glad 
that  I  have  at  last  found  out  that  the  battle  of  life  is 
an  unending  fight  against  the  evil  tendencies,  evil 
mostly  because  exceeding  right  measure,  which  we 
find  in  ourselves.  Strange  that  it  should  take  so 
long  to  find  this  out.  This  is  the  victory  which  God 
gives  us  when  we  have  fought  well  and  faithfully. 
Might  I  at  least  share  it  with  the  saints  whom  I  have 
known.'  " 

"July  lJf.  .  .  .  When  I  lay  down  to  my  rest  before 
dinner,  I  had  a  momentary  sense  of  the  sweetness  and 
relief  of  the  last  lying  down.  This  was  a  new  experience 
to  me,  as  I  have  been  averse  to  any  thought  of  death 
as  opposed  to  the  activity  which  I  love.  I  now  saw  it 
as  the  termination  of  all  fight  and  struggle,  and  prayed 
that  in  the  life  beyond  I  might  pay  some  of  the  debts 
of  affection  and  recompense  which  I  have  failed  to 
make  good  in  this  life.  Feeling  a  little  like  my  old 
self  to-day,  I  realize  how  far  from  well  I  have  been 
for  days  past." 

"July  27.  Woke  with  an  aching  head.  .  .  .  Prayed 
that  even  in  suffering  I  might  still  have  '  work  and  wor- 
ship.' Alliteration  is,  I  know,  one  of  my  weaknesses. 
I  thought  afterwards  of  a  third  W — ,  work,  worship, 
welcome.  These  three  words  will  do  for  a  motto  of  the 
life  which  I  now  lead,  in  which  these  words  stand  for 
my  ruling  objects,  'welcome'  denoting  'hospitality'  in 
which  I  should  be  glad  to  be  more  forward  than  I  have 
been  of  late.  ..." 


206  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"July  28.  Reading  Mr.  Hedge's  review  of  Historic 
Christianity  to-day,  I  felt  puzzled  by  his  showing  of 
the  usefulness  of  human  errors  and  delusion  in  the 
great  order  of  Providence.  Lying  down  for  my  midday 
rest,  it  became  more  clear  to  me  that  there  is  truth  of 
sentiment  and  also  intellectual  truth.  In  Dr.  Hedge's 
view,  the  inevitable  mistakes  of  human  intellect  in  its 
early  unfolding  were  helpful  to  the  development  of 
true  sentiment.  Higher  than  this,  however,  must  be 
the  agreement  of  the  two,  prefigured  perhaps  in  such 
sentences  as  'Mercy  and  truth  have  kissed  each  other.' 
This  thought  also  came  to  me:  'Oh,  God,  no  king- 
dom is  worth  praying  for  but  thine/  " 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  August  2,  1895. 

Dearest  Pidge,  also  Midge,  — 

...  I  will  condescend  to  inform  you  that  I  am  well, 
that  Flossy  is  very  faithful  in  taking  care  of  me,  and 
that  we  are  reading  Bulwer's  "Pelham,"  the  stupidest 
of  novels.  We  are  two  thirds  through  with  it,  and  how 
the  author  of  "Rienzi"  could  have  offered  the  public 
so  dull  a  dish,  even  in  his  unripe  youth,  passes  my 
understanding. 

You  must  not  get  too  tired.  Remember  that  no  one 
will  have  mercy  upon  you  unless  you  will  have  mercy 
upon  yourself.  We  sit  out  a  good  deal,  and  enjoy  our 
books,  all  but  "Pelham,"  our  trees,  birds,  and  butter- 
flies. 

Affectionate 

Ma. 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  207 

"  September  30.  My  dearest  Maud  left  me  this  morn- 
ing for  another  long  absence;  she  is  to  sail  for  Europe. 
She  had  forbidden  me  to  see  her  off,  but  I  could  not 
obey  her  in  this  and  sat  with  her  at  breakfast,  and 
had  a  last  kiss  and  greeting.  My  last  words  called 
after  her  were:  'Do  not  forget  to  say  your  prayers.' 
May  God  keep  my  dearest  child  and  permit  us  to 
meet  again,  if  it  is  best  that  I  should  live  until  her 
return,  of  which  at  present  the  prospect  seems  very 
good.  ..." 

The  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Women 
met  in  New  Orleans  this  year,  but  first  she  must  go 
with  Florence  to  the  Council  of  the  General  Federa- 
tion of  Women's  Clubs  at  Atlanta,  Georgia,  where  a 
great  exposition  was  also  being  held.  The  expedition 
began  with  disaster. 

"October  31.  Left  Boston  by  Colonial  train  at  9  a.m. 
Rolled  down  my  front  steps,  striking  my  forehead  and 
bruising  myself  generally,  in  getting  to  the  car- 
riage. ..." 

After  taking  her  part  in  the  Council  and  visiting  the 
Exposition,  she  proceeded  to  New  Orleans,  where  a 
warm  welcome  awaited  her.  A  few  days  after  her 
arrival,  she  was  driving  to  some  function  when  a  trolley 
car  ran  into  the  carriage,  shaking  her  up  badly  and 
bruising  her  lame  knee  severely.  It  seemed  imperative 
that  she  should  rest  for  a  few  days,  and  hostess  and 
daughter  pleaded  with  her.  Florence  begged  in  par- 
ticular that  she  would  cancel  her  engagement  to 
preach  in  the  Unitarian  Church;  begged  a  little  too 


208  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

insistently.  "I  wouldn't,  dear  mother!"  "Flossy," 
was  the  reply,  "you  are  you,  and  I  am  I!  I  shall 
preach  on  Sunday!" 

To  Maud 
241  Beacon  Street,  November  17,  1895. 
My  darling  Child,  — 

...  I  had  a  confused  and  weary  time  moving  up 
from  Newport,  and  my  Southern  journey  followed 
"hard  upon."  Mrs.  Cheney,  Eva  Channing,  Mrs. 
Bethune,  and  I  started  on  October  31.  Flossy  joined 
us  in  New  York.  We  reached  Atlanta  on  Friday.  Our 
meetings  were  held  in  the  Woman's  Building  of  the 
Atlanta  Exposition,  and  were  very  pleasant,  the  Ex- 
position being  also  well  worth  visiting.  I  spoke  in  the 
Unitarian  Church  on  the  Sunday  following,  and  on 
November  4  we  started  for  New  Orleans  which  we 
reached  the  next  morning.  We  were  all  to  be  enter- 
tained, and  Mrs.  King,  our  old  friend,  had  written  me 
a  cordial  invitation  to  stay  with  her.  The  whole  family 
turned  out  to  receive  us,  and  we  were  made  at  home 
at  once.  .  .  .  Mrs.  King  had  always  been  most  kind  and 
loyal  to  me.  Our  days  in  New  Orleans,  only  six  in 
number,  were  delightful.  I  saw  most  of  the  old  friends. 
.  .  .  After  the  accident  to  Mrs.  King  and  myself,  I 
felt  much  like  seeking  my  own  hearth.  You  will  have 
seen  or  heard  that  a  trolley  car  upset  our  carriage.  .  .  . 
All  said  that  it  was  a  wonderful  escape.  My  bruises 
are  nearly  well  now,  and  I  am  able  to  go  about  as 
usual.  New  Orleans  has  improved  much  since  we 
were  there.  The  old  mule  cars  have  disappeared,  and 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  209 

much  of  the  mud.  People  feel  very  glad  that  the 
Lottery  has  been  got  rid  of,  but  they  are  bitter  against 
the  sugar  trust.  Mrs.  Walmsley  received  our  A.A.W. 
ladies  very  cordially  at  her  fine  house  and  sent  me 
beautiful  flowers.  ...  I  spoke  in  the  Unitarian  Church 
on  Sunday,  so  I  had  my  heart's  desire  fulfilled.  .  .  . 

To  Laura 

241  Beacon  Street,  Boston, 
December  18,  1895. 

Ton  my  word  and  honor,  could  n't  come  at  it 
before!  .  .  .  Last  week  I  spoke  straight  along,  every 
day  until  Saturday;  was  dreadfully  tired.  This  week 
haven't  spoken  at  all.  Oh,  I  forgot,  lecture  on  "  Race 
Problems  in  Europe,"  before  my  own  Club.  Have 
sent  the  Armenians  the  money  for  a  lecture  given  at 
Nahant  last  week,  $10.  Oh!  the  difficult  dollars!  .  .  . 

"December  28.  ...  Mrs.  Barrows  dined  tete-a-tete 
with  me,  and  we  had  much  talk  about  Armenia.  I  said : 
'If  we  two  should  go  to  England,  would  it  do  any 
good?'  I  spoke  only  half  in  earnest.  She  said :' If  you 
would  only  go,  I  would  go  with  you  as  your  henchman.' 
This  set  me  thinking  of  a  voyage  to  England  and  a 
crusade  such  as  I  made  for  Peace  in  1872.  I  am,  how- 
ever, held  forcibly  here  by  engagements,  and  at  my 
age,  my  bodily  presence  might  be,  as  St.  Paul  says, 
'contemptible.'  I  must  try  to  work  in  some  other 
way." 


210  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

To  Laura 
241  Beacon  Street,  December  29,  1895. 

.  .  .  The  mince  pie  was  in  the  grand  style,  and  has 
been  faithfully  devoured,  a  profound  sense  of  duty 
forbidding  me  to  neglect  it.  ...  I  went  to  a  fine  musi- 
cal party  at  Mrs.  Montie  Sears's  on  Thursday  even- 
ing, 26th.  Paderewski  played,  at  first  with  strings  a 
Septet  or  Septuor  of  Brahms',  and  then  many  things 
by  himself.  Somehow,  I  could  not  enjoy  him  much;  he 
played  miraculously,  but  did  not  seem  to  be  in  it. 

I  am  more  than  ever  stirred  up  about  the  Arme- 
nians. The  horrible  massacres  go  on,  just  the  same, 
and  Christendom  stands  still.  Oh!  a  curse  on  human 
selfishness!  .  .  .  We  are  to  have  a  dramatic  enter- 
tainment for  the  Red  Cross  on  Jan.  7th  at  Boston 
Theatre.  .  .  . 

"December  29.  ...  I  determined  to-day  to  try  to 
work  more  systematically  for  the  Armenians.  Think 
I  will  write  to  Clara  Barton  and  Senator  Hoar,  also  to 
Lady  Henry  Somerset,  an  arraignment  of  Christendom 
for  its  supineness  towards  the  Turks,  an  allusion  to 
Cceur  de  Lion  and  the  ancient  Crusaders.  ..." 

"December  30.  .  .  .  Clara  Barton  held  a  meeting  for 
the  Red  Cross.  ...  I  was  the  last  speaker  and  I  think 
that,  as  sometimes  happens,  my  few  words  brought 
things  to  a  crisis,  for  the  moment  only,  indeed,  but 
even  that  may  help." 

"December  31.  Rising  early  and  with  a  mind  some- 
what confused  and  clouded,  I  went  to  my  window. 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  211 

As  I  looked  out,  the  gray  clouds  parted,  giving  me  a 
moment's  sight  of  a  star  high  up  in  the  heavens.  This 
little  glimpse  gave  me  hope  for  the  day  and  great 
comfort.  It  was  like  an  answering  glance  to  my  many 
troubled  questions.  .  .  ." 

"We  have  stood  for  that  which  was  known  to  be 
right  in  theory,  and  for  that  which  has  proved  to  be 
right  in  practice.  (From  my  suffrage  address  at  State 
House  in  1894)." 

In  December,  1895,  appeared  her  first  volume  since 
"Margaret  Fuller,"  a  collection  of  essays,  published 
under  the  title  of  the  opening  one,  "Is  Polite  Society 
Polite?"  In  the  preface  she  says:  — 

"I  remember,  that  quite  late  in  the  fifties,  I  men- 
tioned to  Theodore  Parker  the  desire  which  I  began 
to  feel  to  give  living  expression  to  my  thoughts,  and 
to  lend  to  my  written  words  the  interpretation  of  my 
voice. 

"Parker,  who  had  taken  a  friendly  interest  in  the 
publication  of  my  first  volumes, '  Passion  Flowers  '  and 
'Words  for  the  Hour,'  gave  his  approval  also  to  this 
new  project.  'The  great  desire  of  the  age,'  he  said,  'is 
for  vocal  expression.  People  are  scarcely  satisfied  with 
the  printed  page  alone:  they  crave  for  their  instruc- 
tion the  living  voice  and  the  living  presence.'  ..." 

Of  the  title  essay  she  says :  — 

"I  remember  that  I  was  once  invited  to  read  this 
essay  to  a  village  audience  in  one  of  the  New  England 
States.  My  theme  was  probably  one  quite  remote 
from  the  general  thought  of  my  hearers.  As  I  went  on, 


212  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

their  indifference  began  to  affect  me,  and  my  thought 
was  that  I  might  as  well  have  appealed  to  a  set  of 
wooden  tenpins  as  to  those  who  were  present  on  that 
occasion. 

"In  this,  I  afterwards  learned  that  I  was  mistaken. 
After  the  conclusion  of  the  evening's  exercise,  a  young 
man,  well  known  in  the  community,  was  heard  to 
inquire  urgently  where  he  could  find  the  lecturer. 
Friends  asked,  what  did  he  want  of  her?  He  replied: 
'Well,  I  did  put  my  brother  in  the  poorhouse,  and  now 
that  I  have  heard  Mrs.  Howe,  I  suppose  that  I  must 
take  him  out.'  " 

Another  personal  reminiscence  goes  back  to  her 
childhood  days :  — 

"  I  had  a  nursery  governess  when  I  was  a  small  child. 
She  came  from  some  country  town,  and  probably  re- 
garded her  position  in  my  father's  family  as  a  promo- 
tion. One  evening,  while  we  little  folks  gathered  about 
her  in  our  nursery,  she  wept  bitterly.  'What  is  the 
matter?'  we  asked;  and  she  took  me  up  in  her  lap,  and 
said :  'My  poor  old  father  came  here  to  see  me  to-day, 
and  I  would  not  see  him.  I  bade  them  tell  him  that 
he  had  mistaken  the  house,  and  he  went  away,  and  as 
he  went  I  saw  him  looking  up  at  the  windows  so  wist- 
fully!' Poor  woman!  We  wept  with  her,  feeling  that 
this  was  indeed  a  tragical  event,  and  not  knowing 
what  she  could  do  to  make  it  better. 

"But  could  I  see  that  woman  now,  I  would  say  to 
her:  'If  you  were  serving  the  king  at  his  table,  and 
held  his  wine-cup  in  your  hand,  and  your  father  stood 
without,  asking  for  you,  you  should  set  down  the  cup, 


"DIVERS  GOOD  CAUSES"  213 

and  go  out  from  the  royal  presence  to  honor  your 
father,  so  much  the  more  if  he  is  poor,  so  much  the 
more  if  he  is  old.'  And  all  that  is  really  polite  in  polite 
society  would  say  so  too." 

On  the  same  page  is  a  memory  of  later  years :  — 
"I  once  heard  a  lady,  herself  quite  new  in  society, 
say  of  a  Parisian  dame  who  had  shown  her  some  at- 
tention: 'Ah!  the  trouble  with  Madame is  that 

she  is  too  good-natured.  She  entertains  everybody.' 
'Indeed,'  thought  I,  'if  she  had  been  less  good-natured, 
is  it  certain  that  she  would  have  entertained  you? '  " 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR 

1896-1897 ;  act.  77-78 
THE  HOUSE  OF  REST 

I  will  build  a  house  of  rest, 
Square  the  corners  every  one: 
At  each  angle  on  his  breast 
Shall  a  cherub  take  the  sun; 
Rising,  risen,  sinking,  down, 
Weaving  day's  unequal  crown. 

With  a  free,  unmeasured  tread 
Shall  we  pace  the  cloisters  through: 
Rest,  enfranchised,  like  the  Dead; 
Rest  till  Love  be  born  anew. 
Weary  Thought  shall  take  his  time, 
Free  of  task-work,  loosed  from  rhyme. 

Measured  bread  shall  build  us  up 
At  the  hospitable  board; 
In  Contentment's  golden  cup 
Is  the  guileless  liquor  poured. 
May  the  beggar  pledge  the  king 
In  that  spirit  gathering. 

Oh!  My  house  is  far  away; 
Yet  it  sometimes  shuts  me  in. 
Imperfection  mars  each  day 
While  the  perfect  works  begin. 
In  the  house  of  labor  best 
Can  I  build  the  house  of  rest. 


J.  W.  H. 


On  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Journal  for  1896  is  written:  — 
"That  it  may  please  Thee,  to  have  mercy  upon  all 

men,  we  beseech  Thee  to  hear  us,  Good  Lord." 

"January  1.  I  ask  for  this  year,  or  for  so  much  of 

it  as  God  may  grant  me,  that  I  may  do  some  service  in 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  215 

the  war  of  civilization  against  barbarism,  in  my  own 
country  and  elsewhere." 

" January  18.  ...  Re- wrote  and  finished  my  Easter 
poem,  for  which  gratias  Deo !  I  have  had  so  much  small 
business  that  I  almost  despaired  of  accomplishing  this 
poem,  of  which  the  conception  is  good,  but  the  execu- 
tion very  faulty.  I  took  it  all  to  pieces  to-day,  kept 
the  thoughts  and  altered  the  arrangement." 

"January  23.  Dinner  of  Sorosis  at  the  Waldorf,  at 
7  o'clock. 

"Reached  New  York  at  3  p.m.  Elizabeth  [Mrs.  John 
Jay  Chapman]  had  sent  maid  and  carriage  for  me, 
which  was  most  kind.  Had  a  good  rest  and  a  short 
walk  and  went  to  Sorosis  dinner,  which  was  very 
brilliant  and  fine.  I  was  asked  to  speak  and  took  for 
my  topic,  'The  Day  of  Small  Things';  the  beginning 
of  Sorosis  and  the  New  England  Woman's  Club,  con- 
sidered so  trifling  a  matter,  yet  very  important  be- 
cause it  had  behind  it  a  very  important  principle;  the 
fact  that  the  time  had  come  in  which  women  were 
bound  to  study,  assist,  and  stand  by  each  other.  I 
quoted  Christ's  saying  about  the  mustard  seed.  Miss 
Barton's  mission  to  Armenia  I  called  a  mustard  seed, 
and  one  which  would  have  very  important  results." 

"January  27.  .  .  .  Wrote  a  few  lines  to  Mrs.  Charles 
A.  Babcock,  Oil  City,  Pennsylvania,  for  a  woman's 
issue  of  a  paper  called  the  'Derrick.'  She  wishes  me 
to  say  what  I  thought  would  be  the  result  of  the 
*  women's  edition'  fad.  I  said  that  one  result  would 
be  to  drive  to  desperation  those  who  receive  letters, 
asking  contributions  to  these  issues." 


216  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"February  9.  Another  inspired  sermon  from  C.  G. 
Ames.  Miss  Page  asked,  'Why  is  he  so  earnest?  What 
does  it  mean? '  I  replied,  'He  is  in  one  of  those  waves 
of  inspiration  which  come  sometimes.  The  angel  has 
certainly  troubled  the  pool  and  we  can  go  to  it  for 
healing.'  Returning  home,  I  wrote  some  lines  about 
my  sister  Annie's  picture.  I  had  in  church  a  momen- 
tary glimpse  of  the  meaning  of  Christ's  saying,  'I  am 
the  vine  and  ye  are  the  branches.'  I  felt  how  the  source 
of  our  spiritual  love  is  in  the  heavenly  fatherhood, 
and  how  departing  from  our  sense  of  this  we  become 
empty  and  barren.  It  was  a  moment  of  great  com- 
fort  " 

"February  10.  ...  Gulesian  last  evening  said  that 
the  Armenians  want  me  to  go  to  England,  as  a  leader 
in  advocacy  of  their  cause.  The  thought  brought  me 
a  new  feeling  of  energy  and  enthusiasm.  I  think  I 
must  first  help  the  cause  in  Washington,  D.C." 

"February  26.  Hearing  at  State  House  on  Suffrage. 
Worked  at  it  [her  address]  somewhat  in  the  early 
morning.  Was  tolerably  successful  in  making  my 
points.  Was  rather  disappointed  because  no  one 
applauded  me.  Considered  that  this  was  a  lesson  that 
we  must  learn,  to  do  without  praise.  It  comforted 
me  to  take  it  in  this  way.  Soon  the  interest  of  what 
the  others  said  put  my  own  matters  quite  out  of  my 
mind.  The  hearing  was  a  good  one,  all  except  a  dread- 
ful woman,  calling  herself  a  Socialist,  full  of  insuffer- 
able conceit  and  affectation  of  knowledge.  An  English 
labor  man  spoke  well." 

"March  22.  ...  As  I  left  church,  Mrs.  James  Free- 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  217 

man  Clarke  stopped  me,  took  both  of  my  hands  in 
hers  and  said  she  was  sure  that  the  world  was  better 
for  my  having  been  in  it.  This  from  so  undemonstra- 
tive a  person  moved  me  a  good  deal  and  consoled  me 
somewhat  for  my  poor  deserts  and  performances  in  the 
past  —  a  burden  which  often  weighs  heavily  upon 
me " 

"April  2.  Conservatory  of  Music,  3  p.m.  I  went  in 
fear  and  trembling  with  a  violent  bronchial  cold  and 
cough,  in  a  miserable  storm.  I  prayed  all  the  way 
there  that  I  might  be  pleasant  in  my  demeanor,  and 
I  think  that  I  was,  for  my  trouble  at  having  to  run 
such  a  risk  soon  went  out  of  my  mind,  and  I  enjoyed 
the  occasion  very  much;  especially  meeting  pupils  from 
so  many  distant  States,  and  one  or  two  from  Canada." 

"April  8.  ...  I  asked  in  my  prayer  this  morning,, 
feeling  miserably  dull  and  weak,  that  some  deed  of 
help  and  love  might  be  given  me  to  accomplish  to-day- 
At  noon  came  three  gentlemen,  Hagop  Bogigian,  Mr. 
Blanchard,  and  Mr.  Breed,  of  Lynn,  praying  me  to 
make  an  appeal  to  the  women  of  America  for  their 
Armenian  sisters,  who  are  destroying  themselves  in 
many  instances  to  avoid  Turkish  outrage.  The  funds 
subscribed  for  relief  are  exhausted  and  some  new  stim- 
ulus to  rouse  the  public  is  much  needed.  ...  I  felt  that 
I  had  had  an  answer  to  my  prayer.  ..." 

To  Maud 
241  Beacon  Street,  April  18,  1896. 
.  .  .  Let  me  tell  you  now,  lest  you  should  hear  of  it  in 
some  other  way,  that  I  was  urged  to  go  to  England 


218  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

this  summer  to  intercede  with  Queen  Victoria  for  the 
Armenians.  I  thought  of  it,  but  the  plan  seemed  to 
me  chimerical  and  futile.  I  still  have  them  and  the 
Cretans  greatly  at  heart,  but  I  don't  think  I  could  do 
any  good  in  the  way  just  mentioned.  I  should  have 
been  glad  to  make  a  great  sacrifice  for  these  persecuted 
people,  but  common  sense  must  be  adhered  to,  in  all 
circumstances.  .  .  . 

To  the  same 
241  Beacon  Street,  April  18,  1896. 
...  If  you  go  to  Russia,  be  careful  to  go  as  Mrs. 
John  Elliott,  not  as  Maud  Howe  Elliott.  Your  name 
is  probably  known  there  as  one  of  the  friends  of  "Free 
Russia,"  and  you  might  be  subjected  to  some  annoy- 
ance in  consequence.  You  had  better  make  acquaint- 
ance with  our  minister,  whoever  he  may  be.  The 
Russians  seem  now  to  have  joined  hands  with  the 
Turks.  If  the  American  missionaries  can  only  be  got 
rid  of,  Russia,  it  is  said,  will  take  Armenia  under  her 
so-called  protection,  and  will  compel  all  Christians  to 
join  the  Greek  Church.  There  is  so  much  spying  in 
Russia  that  you  will  have  to  be  very  careful  what  you 
talk  about.  I  rather  hope  you  will  not  go,  for  a  dyna- 
mite country  is  especially  dangerous  in  times  of  great 
public  excitement,  which  the  time  of  the  coronation 
cannot  fail  to  be.  .  .  . 

"April  20.  F.  J.  Garrison  called  and  made  me  an 
offer,  on  the  part  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Company, 
that  they  should  publish  my  'Reminiscences.'  ...  I 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  219 

accepted,   but  named  a  year   as  the   shortest  time 
possible  for  me  to  get  such  a  book  ready.  ..." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  took  three  years  for  her  to 
complete  the  "Reminiscences."  During  these  years, 
while  she  made  it  her  principal  literary  work,  it  still 
had  to  take  its  chance  with  the  rest,  to  be  laid  down 
at  the  call  of  the  hour  and  taken  up  again  when  the 
insistence  of  "screed"  or  poem  was  removed:  this 
while  in  Boston  or  Newport.  During  the  Roman 
winter,  soon  to  be  described,  she  wrote  steadily  day 
by  day;  but  here  she  must  still  work  at  disadvantage, 
having  no  access  to  journals  or  papers,  depending  on 
memory  alone. 

"  May  7.  Question :  Cannot  we  follow  up  the  Parlia- 
ment of  Religions  by  a  Pan-Christian  Association?  I 
will  try  to  write  about  this." 

"May  19.  Had  sought  much  for  light,  or  a  leading 
thought  about  what  I  ought  to  do  for  Armenia.  .  .  . 
Wrote  fully  to  Senator  Hoar,  asking  his  opinion  about 
my  going  abroad  and  whether  I  could  have  any  official 
support." 

"May  28.  Moral  Education  Association,  10  a.m., 
Tremont  Temple. 

"I  wish  to  record  this  thought  which  came  to  me 
on  my  birthday:  As  for  individuals,  no  bettering  of 
fortunes  compares  in  importance  with  the  bettering 
of  character;  so  among  nations,  no  extension  of  terri- 
tory or  aggregation  of  wealth  equals  in  importance 
the  fact  of  moral  growth.    So  no  national  loss  is  to 


220  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

be  deplored  in  comparison  with  loss  of  moral  earnest- 
ness." 

"Oak  Glen,  June  30.  .  .  .  Finished  this  afternoon 
my  perusal  of  the  'Memoir'  of  Mr.  John  Pickering. 
Felt  myself  really  uplifted  by  it  into  an  atmosphere 
of  culture  and  scholarship,  rarely  attained  even  by 
the  intelligent  people  whom  we  all  know.  ..." 

"July  12.  ...  I  pray  this  morning  for  courage  to 
undertake  and  fervor  to  accomplish  something  in  be- 
half of  Christian  civilization  against  the  tide  of  bar- 
barism, which  threatens  to  over-sweep  it.  This  may 
be  a  magazine  article;  something,  at  any  rate,  which 
I  shall  try  to  write. 

"  1  p.m.  Have  made  a  pretty  good  beginning  in  this 
task,  having  writ  nine  pages  of  a  screed  under  the 
heading:  'Shall  the  frontier  of  Christendom  be  main- 
tained and  its  domain  extended?'  " 

To  Maud 

Oak  Glen,  July  18,  1896. 
My  darling  Wanderer,  — 

Here  I  am  comfortably  settled  for  the  summer, 
bathed  in  greenery  and  good  air.  I  had  barely  un- 
packed my  books  and  papers  when  Daisy  came  out  on 
horseback  to  insist  upon  my  paying  her  a  visit.  I  did 
this,  and  went  to  her  on  Wednesday,  returning  home 
on  the  following  Monday.  On  the  4th  of  July  I  at- 
tended, by  invitation,  the  meeting  of  the  Cincinnati 
in  the  Old  State  House  here.  Cousin  Nathanael 
Greene  presided.  Charles  Howland  Russell  read 
aloud  the    Declaration  of  Independence.    Governor 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  221 

Lippitt  made  an  address  in  which  he  mentioned  Gov- 
ernor Samuel  Ward,  my  great-grandfather.  ...  I  have 
a  good  piano  this  year.  We  went  on  Monday  last  to 
see  the  furniture  at  Malbone,  all  of  which  has  just 
been  sold  at  auction.  A  good  deal  of  it  was  very 
costly  and  some  of  it  very  handsome.  .  .  .  Apropos 
of  worldly  goods,  Cornelius  Vanderbilt  has  had  a 
stroke. 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  July  25, 1896. 
Oh,  yes!  you  now  and  then  do  lend  me  a  daughter, 
and  so  you'd  ought  to.    Which,  didn't  I  profit  by 

Alice's  visit?   My  good  woman  (as  poor,  dear 

used  to  say  when  she  was  in  wrath),  I  should  think  so. 
Clear  comfort  the  wretch  was  to  me,  wretch  because 
she  had  such  an  old  miserable  to  look  after.  I  some- 
times catch  myself  thinking  that,  however  it  may  be 
with  other  families,  your  family,  madam,  came  into  this 
world  for  my  especial  pleasure  and  comfort.  What 
do  you  think  of  this  view?  No  matter  what  you  think, 
dear,  it  won't  make  any  difference  as  to  facts.  ...  I 
miss  even  the  youth  in  Alice's  voice.  I  would  like, 
mum,  if  you  please,  mum,  to  enjoy  about  sixty  years 
more  of  grandmotherhood,  with  fresh  crops  of  grand- 
children coming  up  at  reasonable  intervals.  Our  life 
here,  this  summer,  is  even  unusually  quiet.  We  have 
few  visitors.  ...  I  am,  as  usual,  well  content  with  my 
books,  and  busy  with  my  papers.  Flossy  reads  aloud 
Green's  "History  of  the  English  People"  about  half 
an  hour  daily,  after  breakfast.   The  boys  reluctantly 


222  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

submit  to  listen,  fidgeting  a  good  deal.  It  is  less  read- 
able for  youth  than  I  supposed  it  to  be.  We  play  whist 
in  the  evening,  and  had  a  wood  fire  last  evening,  the 
weather  being  suddenly  cold.  I  learned  yesterday, 
from  the  "  Tiser,"  the  death  of  Adolphe  Mailliard  [her 
brother-in-law]  which  has  brought  me  many  sober 
thoughts,  despite  the  trifling  tone  of  this  letter.  I  had 
waked  the  day  before,  thinking  that  some  one  said  to 
me  "  Mailliard  is  dying."  I  recorded  it  in  my  Diary, 
but  had  no  idea  that  I  should  so  soon  hear  of  it  as  a 
reality.    What  a  chapter  ends  with  him! 

"August  15.  To-day  is  mercifully  cool.  I  have 
about  finished  my  A.A.W.  screed,  D.G.  The  great 
heats  have  affected  me  very  much;  my  brain  has 
been  full  of  fever  fancies  and  of  nonsense.  I  prayed 
earnestly  this  morning  that  I  might  not  survive  my 
wits.  I  have  great  hope  that  I  shall  not.  ..." 

"August  17.  Have  read  in  Minot  J.  Savage's  'Four 
Great  Questions,'  and  in  the  long  biography  of  my 
uncle,  Rev.  B.  C.  Cutler.  His  piety  and  faithfulness 
appear  to  me  most  edifying.  His  theology  at  the 
present  time  seems  impossible.  I  am  sorry  that  I  saw 
so  very  little  of  him  after  my  marriage,  but  he  was 
disposed  to  consider  me  as  one  of  the  lost,  and  I  could 
not  have  met  him  on  any  religious  ground.  I  could  do 
this  better  now,  having  learned  something  of  the  value 
which  very  erroneous  opinions  may  have,  when  they 
serve,  as  in  his  case,  to  stimulate  right  effort  and  true 
feeling." 


n  a 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  223 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  August  21,  1896. 
Being  in  a  spleeny  and  uncomfortable  mood  to-day, 
what  resource  so  legitimate  as  to  betake  myself  to  my 
own  family?  No  particular  reason  for  growling,  growly 
so  much  the  more.  If  I  only  had  a  good  grievance  now, 
how  I  would  improve  it!  Well,  you  see,  trouble  is 
some  of  us  have  not  any  money  to  speak  of,  and  in 
consequence  we  ain't  nobody,  and  so  on.  There  I  hear 
the  voice  of  my  little  mother  Laura,  saying:  "Well, 
well!"  in  her  soothing  way.  The  truth  is,  darling,  that 
first  I  was  roasted  out,  and  then  it  "friz  horrid,"  and 
my  poor  old  "  conshushion "  could  n't  quite  stand 
it.  .  .  .  D'  ye  see?  "Well,  no,"  says  Laura:  "I  don't 
exactly  see."  Well,  s'pose  you  don't  —  what  then? 
You  sweetheart,  this  is  just  the  way  this  old,  un- 
thankful sinner  was  taken,  just  now.  But  I  've  got 
bravely  over  it,  and  I  submit  to  health,  comfort,  de- 
lightful books,  young  company  and  good  friends. 
Edifying,  ain't  it?  .  .  . 

"September  15.  In  the  cars,  reading  the  Duke  of 
Argyll's  fine  opuscule,  'Our  [England's]  Responsibili- 
ties for  Turkey,'  my  heart  was  lifted  up  in  agonized 
prayer.  I  said,  'O  God!  give  me  a  handwriting  on  the 
wall,  that  I  may  truly  know  what  I  can  do  for  these 
people.'  And  I  resolved  not  to  go  back  from  the  pur- 
pose which  prompted  this  prayer. 

"Arrived  at  St.  John  [New  Brunswick]  and  was 
made  very  welcome.  Reception  in  the  evening  by  the 


224  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ladies  of  the  Council.  Speeches:  Rev.  Mr.  De  Wars, 
Anglican  minister,  spoke  of  our  taking  A.A.W.  to 
England.  I  wondered  if  this  was  my  handwriting  on 
the  wall." 

"October  10.  Wheaton  Seminary  Club,  Vendome. 
Reminiscences  of  Longfellow  and  Emerson.  ...  As  I 
was  leaving  one  lady  said  to  me,  'Mrs.  Howe,  you 
have  shocked  me  very  much,  and  I  think  that  when 
you  go  to  the  other  world,  you  will  be  sorry  that  you 
did  not  stay  as  you  were,'  i.e.,  Orthodox  instead  of 
Unitarian.  Miss  Emerson  apologized  to  me  for  this 
rather  uncivil  greeting.  I  feel  sure  that  the  lady  mis- 
understood something  in  my  lecture.  What,  I  could 
not  tell." 

"November  1.  The  Communion  service  was  very 
delightful.  I  prayed  quite  earnestly  this  morning  that 
the  dimness  of  sight,  which  has  lately  troubled  me, 
might  disappear.  My  eyes  are  really  better  to-day. 
I  seemed  at  one  moment  during  the  service  to  see 
myself  as  a  little  child  in  the  Heavenly  Father's 
Nursery,  having  played  my  naughty  pranks  (alas!) 
and  left  my  tasks  unperformed,  but  coming,  as  bed- 
time draws  near,   to  kiss  and  be  forgiven." 

To  Maud 

Rokebt,  Baerytown,  N.Y.,  December  25,  1896. 
My  own  Dearest,  — 

I  am  here  according  to  promise  to  spend  Christmas 
with  Daisy.1  I  occupy  Elizabeth  Chanler's  room,  beau- 
tifully adorned  with  hangings  of  poppy-colored  silk. 

1  Mrs.  Winthrop  Chanler. 


IN  THE   HOUSE  OF   LABOR  225 

.  .  .  All  of  us  helped  to  dress  the  tree,  which  was  really 
beautiful.  The  farm  people  came  in  at  about  six 
o'clock,  also  the  old  tutor,  Bostwick,  and  the  Arm- 
strong cousins.  After  dinner,  we  had  a  fiddler  in  the 
hall.  Alida  danced  an  Irish  jig  very  prettily,  and  we 
had  a  Virginia  reel,  which  I  danced,  if  you  please,  with 
Mr.  Bostwick.  Then  we  snuggled  up  to  the  fire  in  the 
library  and  Wintie  read  aloud  from  Mark  Twain's 
"Huckleberry  Finn.".  .  . 

The  year  1897  brought  new  activities.  The  Lodge 
Immigration  Bill  roused  her  to  indignation  and  pro- 
test; there  were  "screeds"  and  letters  to  the  powers 
that  were. 

In  the  early  spring  came  another  crisis  in  the  East, 
Greece  and  Crete  bearing  this  time  the  brunt  of  Turk- 
ish violence.  Thirty  years  had  passed  since  Crete 
made  her  first  stand  for  independence;  years  of  dumb 
suffering  and  misery.  Now  her  people  rose  again 
in  revolt  against  their  brutal  masters,  and  this  time 
Greece  felt  strong  enough  to  stand  openly  by  her 
Cretan  brothers. 

Our  mother  was  deeply  moved  by  this  new  need, 
which  recalled  so  many  precious  memories.  The  record 
of  the  spring  of  1897  is  much  concerned  with  it. 

Written  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  Journal:  "The  good 
God  make  me  grateful  for  this  new  year,  of  which  I 
am  allowed  to  see  the  beginning.  Thy  kingdom  come ! 
I  have  many  wishes,  but  this  prayer  will  carry  them 
all.   January  1,  1897. 

"Oh,  dear!" 


226  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"January  1±.  . .  .  Went  in  the  evening  to  see  the 
Smith  College  girls,  Class  of  '95,  play  'Midsummer 
Night's  Dream.'  A  most  lovely  and  ideal  perform- 
ance. Their  representation  of  the  Athenian  clowns 
was  incredibly  good,  especially  of  Nick  Bottom." 

"January  5.  .  .  .  Was  grieved  and  shocked  to  learn 
early  this  morning  that  my  brilliant  neighbor,  General 
Francis  A.  Walker,  had  died  during  the  night.  He 
always  greeted  me  with  chivalrous  courtesy,  and  has 
more  than  once  given  me  his  arm  to  help  me  home- 
ward, when  he  has  found  me  battling  with  the  high 
winds  in  or  near  Beacon  Street.  ..." 

To  Maud 
241  Beacon  Street,  Boston,  January  18,  1897. 
About  the  life  "a  deux  seulement,"  I  agree  with  you 
in  thinking  that  it  is  not  good  for  either  party.  It  is 
certainly  very  narrowing  both  to  the  mind  and  to  the 
affections,  and  is  therefore  to  be  avoided.  A  reasonable 
amount  of  outside  intercourse  is  a  vital  condition  of 
good  living,  even  in  the  most  sympathetic  and  inti- 
mate marriages,  and  the  knowledge  of  this  is  one  of  the 
strong  points  in  the  character  of  women  generally, 
who  do  nine  tenths  of  what  is  done  to  keep  up  social 
intercourse.  .  .  . 

"April  2.  Evening;  celebration  of  twenty-fifth  year 
of  Saturday  Morning  Club.  Have  writ  draft  of  an 
open  letter  regarding  Greek  matters;  also  finished  a 
very  short  screed  for  this  evening.  .  .  ." 

"April  18.  .  .  .  I  determined  to  work  more  for  the 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  227 

Greeks  and  to  try  and  write  something  about  the  craze 
prevailing  just  now  for  the  Eastern  religions,  which  are 
rather  systems  of  speculation  than  of  practical  re- 
ligion." 

To  Maud 

April  18,  1897. 
.  .  .  Mrs.  Berdan  made  a  visit  here,  and  I  gave  a 
reception  for  her,  and  took  her  to  the  great  occasion 
of  the  Saturday  Morning  Club,  celebrating  their 
twenty-fifth  anniversary.  The  whole  thing  was  very 
beautiful  —  the  reception  was  in  the  tapestry  room  of 
the  Art  Museum.  I  was  placed  in  a  sort  of  throne  chair, 
with  the  president  and  ex-presidents  in  a  line  at  my 
left,  and  the  cream  of  Boston  was  all  brought  up  and 
presented  to  me.  In  another  of  the  large  rooms  a 
stage  had  been  arranged,  and  from  this  I  made  my 
little  speech.  Then  came  some  beautiful  singing  by 
Mrs.  Tebbets,  with  a  small  orchestral  accompani- 
ment, and  then  was  given  one  act  of  Tennyson's 
"Princess"  and  Browning's  "In  a  Balcony."  The 
place,  the  performances,  and  the  guests  made  this  a 
very  distinguished  occasion.  I  had  gone  just  before 
this  to  see  Louisa  Cushing's  wonderful  acting  in  a 
French  play  of  the  Commune.  She  possesses  great 
tragic  power  and  reminds  one  of  Duse  and  of  Sarah 
Bernhardt.  I  suppose  that  H.  M.  H.  has  written  you 
of  his  appointment  as  Professor  of  Metallurgy,  etc.,  at 
Columbia  College,  New  York.  He  and  Fannie  are 
much  pleased  with  this,  and  it  is  considered  a  very 
important  step  for  him.   I  shall  miss  him  a  good  deal, 


228  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

but  am  glad  of  it  for  his  sake.  Michael1  and  I  went 
yesterday  to  the  annual  breakfast  of  the  Charity  Club. 
Greece  had  been  made  the  topic  of  the  day.  Michael 
made  a  splendid  speech,  and  sang  three  stanzas  of  the 
Greek  National  Hymn,  albeit  he  cannot  sing  at  all  — 
he  intoned  it.  I  also  made  a  little  speech,  and  some 
money  was  given  to  aid  the  Greek  cause.  Hezekiah 
Butterworth  was  present,  and  I  offered  the  following 
conundrum:  "What 's  butter  worth?"  Answer,  "The 
cream  of  everything."  Adieu,  my  dearest. 

Ever  your  loving 

Mother. 

"April  26.  Received  permission  to  use  Faneuil  Hall 
for  a  Woman's  Meeting  of  Aid  and  Sympathy  for 
Greece.  ..." 

"May  3.  Working  at  sending  out  notices  of  the 
Faneuil  Hall  meeting." 

"May  4-.  The  day  was  auspicious  for  our  meeting. 
Although  very  tired  with  the  preparations,  I  wrote 
my  little  screed,  dressed,  and  went  betimes  to  the 
Hall,  where  I  was  expected  to  preside.  I  found  it 
prettily  arranged,  though  at  very  small  expense.  I 
wore  as  a  badge  a  tiny  Greek  flag  made  of  blue  and 
white  ribbon,  and  brought  badges  of  these  colors  for 
the  young  ladies  who  were  to  take  up  the  collection. 
Many  whom  I  had  requested  to  come  were  present. 
Sarah  Whitman,  Lizzie  Agassiz,  Mrs.  Cornelius  Felton, 
Mrs.  Fields,  Mrs.  Whitney,  besides  our  Committee  and 
Mrs.  Barrows.  M.  Anagnos  gave  us  the  band  of  the  In- 

1  Anagnos. 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  229 

stitution,  which  was  a  great  help.  They  played  several 
times.  I  introduced  C.  G.  Ames,  who  made  a  prayer. 
My  opening  address  followed.  Mmes.  Livermore  and 
Woolson,  and  Anagnos  made  the  most  important  ad- 
dresses. As  the  band  played  'America,'  a  young  Greek 
came  in,  bearing  the  Greek  flag,  which  had  quite  a 
dramatic  effect.  The  meeting  was  enthusiastic  and 
the  contribution  unusual  for  such  a  meeting,  three 
hundred  and  ninety-seven  dollars  and  odd  cents. 
Thank  God  for  this  success." 

"May  13.  .  .  .  Head  desperately  bad  in  the  morning. 
.  .  .  Have  done  no  good  work  to-day,  brain  being  un- 
serviceable. Did,  however,  begin  a  short  screed  for  my 
speech  at  Unitarian  Festival. 

"The  Round  Table  was  most  interesting.  Rev.  S.  J. 
Barrows  read  a  carefully  studied  monograph  of  the 
Greek  struggle  for  liberty.  Mr.  Robinson,  of  the  Art 
Museum,  spoke  mostly  of  the  present  desperate  need. 
I  think  I  was  called  next.  I  characterized  the  Turks 
as  almost  'ferae  naturae.''  Spoke  of  the  low  level  of 
European  diplomacy.  Said  that  we  must  fall  back 
upon  the  ethical  people,  but  hope  for  a  general  world- 
movement  making  necessary  the  adoption  of  a  higher 
level  of  international  relation  —  look  to  the  religious 
world  to  uphold  the  principle  that  no  religion  can 
henceforth  be  allowed  to  propagate  itself  by  blood- 
shed." 

"May  18.  A  lecture  at  Westerly,  Rhode  Island.  .  .  . 
My  lameness  made  the  ascent  of  steps  and  stairs  very 
painful.  .  .  ." 

"May  22.  Heard  a  delightful  French   Conference 


230  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  reading  from  M.  Louis.  Had  a  fit  of  timidity 
about  the  stairs,  which  were  high  and  many;  finally 
got  down.  Had  a  worse  one  at  home,  where  could  not 
get  up  the  staircase  on  my  feet,  and  had  to  execute 
some  curious  gymnastics  to  get  up  at  all." 

"May  25.  My  knee  was  very  painful  in  the  night, 
and  almost  intolerable  in  the  morning,  so  sent  for 
Wesselhoeft,  who  examined  it  and  found  the  trouble 
to  proceed  from  an  irritation  of  a  muscle,  probably 
rheumatic  in  character.  He  prescribed  entire  rest  and 
threatened  to  use  a  splint  if  it  should  not  soon  be 
better.  I  must  give  up  some  of  my  many  engagements, 
and  cannot  profit  by  the  doings  of  this  week,  alas!" 

"May  27.  I  am  to  speak  at  the  Unitarian  Festival; 
dinner  at  5  p.m. 

"This  is  my  seventy-eighth  birthday.  If  the  good 
God  sees  fit  to  grant  me  another  year,  may  He  help 
me  to  fill  it  with  good  work.  I  am  still  very  lame,  but 
perhaps  a  little  better  for  yesterday's  massage.  Gifts 
of  flowers  from  many  friends  began  early  to  arrive, 
and  continued  till  late  in  the  evening.  The  house  was 
resplendent  and  fragrant  with  them.  I  worried  some- 
what about  the  evening's  programme  and  what  I 
should  say,  but  everything  went  well.  Kind  Dr.  Baker 
Flynt  helped  me,  cushion  and  all,  into  Music  Hall,  and 
several  gentlemen  assisted  me  to  the  platform,  where 
I  was  seated  between  the  Chairman  of  the  Festival 
Committee  and  Robert  Collyer.  ...  I  desired  much 
to  have  the  word  for  the  occasion,  but  I  am  not  sure 
whether  I  had." 

"June  2.  My  first  day  of '  solitary  confinement.'.  .  ." 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  231 

To  Laura 

241  Beacon  Street,  June  2,  1897. 
As  poor  Susan  Bigelow  once  wrote  me:  — 

"  The  Buffalo  lies  in  his  lonely  lair, 
No  friend  nor  agent  visits  him  there." 

She  was  lame  at  the  time,  and  I  had  once  called  her, 
by  mistake,  "  Mrs.  Buffalo."  Well,  perfidious  William,1 
rivalling  in  tyranny  the  Sultan  of  Turkey,  has  forbid- 
den me  to  leave  this  floor.  So  here  I  sit,  growly  and 
bad,  but  obliged  to  acquiescence  in  W.'s  sentence.  .  .  . 

Affect., 

Muz-wuz. 

To  Maud 

241  Beacon  Street,  June  4,  1897. 
Dearest  dear  Child,  — 

First  place,  darling,  dismiss  from  your  mind  the  idea 
that  reasonable  people  to-day  believe  that  the  souls  of 
men  in  the  pre-Christian  world  were  condemned  and 
lost.  The  old  religions  are  generally  considered  to-day 
as  necessary  steps  in  the  religion  of  the  human  race, 
and  therefore  as  part  of  the  plan  of  a  beneficent  Provi- 
dence. The  Jews  were  people  of  especial  religious 
genius,  producing  a  wonderful  religious  literature,  and 
Christianity,  which  came  out  of  Judaism,  is,  to  my 
belief,  the  culmination  of  the  religious  sense  of  man- 
kind. But  Paul  himself  says,  speaking  to  the  Athe- 
nians, that  "  God  hath  not  left  himself  without  a  wit- 
ness," at  any  time.    I  was  brought  up,  of  course,  in 

1  Dr.  Wesselhoeft. 


232  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

the  old  belief,  which  I  soon  dismissed  as  irreconcilable 
with  any  idea  of  a  beneficent  Deity.  As  for  the  doc- 
trine of  regeneration,  I  think  that  by  being  born  again 
the  dear  Lord  meant  that  we  cannot  apprehend  spirit- 
ual truths  unless  our  minds  are  earnestly  set  upon 
understanding  them.  To  any  one  who  has  led  a  simple, 
material  life,  without  aspiration  or  moral  reflection, 
the  change  by  which  his  attention  becomes  fastened 
upon  the  nobler  aspect  of  character  and  of  life  is  really 
like  a  new  birth.  We  may  say  the  same  of  the  love 
of  high  art  and  great  literature.  Some  people  turn 
very  suddenly  from  a  frivolous  or  immoral  life  to  a 
better  and  more  thoughtful  way.  They  remember  this 
as  a  sudden  conversion.  In  most  of  us,  I  think  the 
change  is  more  gradual  and  natural.  The  better  in- 
fluences win  us  from  the  evil  things  to  which  most  of 
us  are  in  some  way  disposed.  We  have  to  seek  the  one 
and  to  shun  the  other.  I,  for  example,  am  very  thank- 
ful that  my  views  of  many  things  are  unlike  what  they 
were  twenty  or  thirty  or  forty  years  ago.  I  attribute 
this  change  mostly  to  good  influences,  reading,  hearing 
sermons  and  high  conversation.  These  things  often 
begin  in  an  effort  of  will  to  "move  up  higher."  If  I 
write  more  about  this,  I  shall  muddle  myself  and  you. 
Only  don't  distress  yourself  about  regeneration.  I 
think  it  mostly  comes  insensibly,  like  a  child's 
growth.  .  .  . 

I  attended  the  memorial  meeting  at  the  unveiling 
of  the  Shaw  Monument.  You  can't  think  how  beau- 
tiful the  work  is.  The  ceremonies  took  place  Monday, 
beginning  with   a  procession   which    came    through 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  233 

Beacon  Street.  Governor  Wolcott,  in  a  barouche  and 
four,  distinctly  bowed  to  me.  The  New  York  Seventh 
Regiment  came  on  and  marched  beautifully;  our 
Cadets  marched  about  as  well.  There  was  also  a 
squad  from  our  battleships,  two  of  which  were  in  the 
harbor.  At  twelve  o'clock  we  all  went  to  Music  Hall 
where  they  sang  my  "Battle  Hymn."  The  Gov- 
ernor and  Mayor  and  Colonel  Harry  Lee  spoke. 
Willie  James  gave  the  oration  and  Booker  Washington 
really  made  the  address  of  the  day,  simple,  balanced, 
and  very  eloquent.  I  had  a  visit  yesterday  from  Larz 
and  Isabel  [Anderson].  He  told  me  much  about  you. 
Darling,  this  is  a  very  poor  letter,  but  much  love  goes 
with  it. 

Affectionate 

Mother. 

"June  6.  .  .  .  Have  writ  a  note  to  little  John  Jef- 
fries, aet.  six  years,  who  sent  me  a  note  in  his  own 
writing,  with  a  dollar  saved  out  of  five  cents  per  week, 
for  the  'poor  Armenians.'  He  writes:  'I  don't  like 
the  Turks  one  bit.  I  think  they  are  horrid.'  Have  sent 
note  and  dollar  to  A.  S.  B.  for  the  Armenian  orphans." 

"June  27,  Oak  Glen.  My  first  writing  in  this  dear 
place.  Carrie  Hall  yesterday  moved  me  down  into  dear 
Chev's  bedroom  on  the  first  floor,  Wesselhoeft  hav- 
ing forbidden  me  to  go  up  and  down  stairs.  I  rebelled 
inwardly  against  this,  but  am  compelled  to  acknowl- 
edge that  it  is  best  so.  Carrie  showed  great  energy  in 
moving  down  all  the  small  objects  to  which  she  sup- 
posed me  to  be  attached.  I  have  now  had  an  exquisite 


234  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

sitting  in  my  green  parlor,  reading  a  sermon  of  dear 
James  Freeman  Clarke's." 

"June  28.  Wrote  my  stint  of  'Reminiscences'  in 
the  morning.  ...  At  bedtime  had  very  sober  thoughts 
of  the  limitation  of  life.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  end 
might  be  near.  My  lameness  and  the  painful  condi- 
tion of  my  feet  appear  like  warnings  of  a  decline  of 
physical  power,  which  could  only  lead  one  way.  My 
great  anxiety  is  to  see  Maud  before  I  depart." 

"July  10.  I  dreamed  last  night,  or  rather  this  morn- 
ing, that  I  was  walking  as  of  old,  lightly  and  without 
pain.  I  cried  in  my  joy :  '  Oh,  some  one  has  been  mind- 
curing  me.  My  lameness  has  disappeared.'  Have  writ 
a  pretty  good  screed  about  John  Brown." 

"July  22.  .  .  .  Dearest  Maud  and  Jack  arrived  in  the 
evening.  So  welcome!  I  had  not  seen  Jack  in  two  years. 
I  had  begun  to  fear  that  I  was  never  to  see  Maud  again." 

"July  26.  Had  a  little  time  of  quiet  thought  this 
morning,  in  which  I  seemed  to  see  how  the  intensity 
of  individual  desire  would  make  chaos  in  the  world  of 
men  and  women  if  there  were  not  a  conquering  and 
reconciling  principle  of  harmony  above  them  all.  This 
to  my  mind  can  be  no  other  than  the  infinite  wisdom 
and  infinite  love  which  we  call  God." 

"August  18.  I  prayed  this  morning  for  some  direct 
and  definite  service  which  I  might  render.  At  noon  a 
reporter  from  the  'New  York  Journal'  arrived,  be- 
seeching me  to  write  something  to  help  the  young 
Cuban  girl,  who  is  in  danger  of  being  sent  to  the 
Spanish  Penal  Colony  [Ceuta]  in  Africa.  I  wrote  an 
appeal  in  her  behalf  and  suggested  a  cable  to  the  Pope. 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  LABOR  235 

This  I  have  already  written.  The  Hearsts  will  send  it. 
This  was  an  answer  to  my  prayer.  Our  dear  H.  M.  H. 
arrived  at  3  p.m.  ..." 

''August  29.  Had  a  little  service  for  my  own  people, 
Flossy  and  her  four  children.  Spoke  of  the  impor- 
tance of  religious  culture.  Read  the  parable  of  the  wise 
and  foolish  virgins.  Flossy  thought  the  wise  ones 
unkind  not  to  be  willing  to  share  with  the  foolish.  I 
suggested  that  the  oil  pictured  something  which  could 
not  be  given  in  a  minute.  Cited  Beecher's  saying, 
which  I  have  so  long  remembered,  that  we  cannot  get 
religion  as  we  order  a  suit  of  clothes.  If  we  live  with- 
out it,  when  some  overwhelming  distress  or  tempta- 
tion meets  us,  we  shall  not  find  either  the  consolation 
or  the  strength  which  true  faith  gives." 

"September  23.  Have  just  learned  by  cable  from 
Rome  that  my  dearest  sister  Louisa  died  yesterday 
morning.  Let  me  rather  hope  that  she  awoke  from 
painful  weakness  and  infirmity  into  a  new  glory  of 
spiritual  life.  Her  life  here  has  been  most  blameless, 
as  well  as  most  beautiful.  Transplanted  to  Rome  in 
her  early  youth  and  beauty,  she  became  there  a  centre 
of  disinterested  hospitality,  of  love  and  of  charity. 
She  was  as  rare  a  person  in  her  way  as  my  sweet  sis- 
ter Annie.  Alas !  I,  of  less  desert  than  either,  am  left, 
the  last  of  my  dear  father's  and  mother's  children.  God 
grant  that  my  remaining  may  be  for  good !  And  God 
help  me  to  use  faithfully  my  little  remnant  of  life  in  set- 
ting my  house  in  order,  and  in  giving  such  completeness 
as  I  can  to  my  life-work,  or  rather,  to  its  poor  efforts." 
,  "September  25.  Was  sad  as  death  at  waking,  pon- 


236  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

dering  my  many  difficulties.  The  day  is  most  lovely.  I 
have  read  two  of  Dr.  Hedge's  sermons  and  feel  much 
better.  One  is  called  'The  Comforter,'  and  was  prob- 
ably written  in  view  of  the  loss  of  friends  by  death. 
It  speaks  of  the  spirit  of  a  true  life,  which  does  not 
pass  away  when  the  life  is  ended,  but  becomes  more 
and  more  dear  and  precious  to  loving  survivors.  The 
text,  from  John  xvi,  7:  'It  is  expedient  for  you  that 
I  go  away.'  Have  writ  a  good  screed  about  the  Rome 
of  1843-44." 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  September  27,  1897. 

.  .  .  My  dear  sister  and  I  have  lived  so  long  far  apart, 
that  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  have  a  realizing  sense  of 
her  departure.  It  is  only  at  moments  that  I  can  feel 
that  we  shall  meet  on  earth  no  more.  I  grieve  most 
of  all  that  my  life  has  been  so  far  removed  from  hers. 
She  has  been  a  joy,  a  comfort,  a  delight  to  so  many 
people,  and  I  have  had  so  little  of  all  this !  The  remem- 
brance of  what  I  have  had  is  indeed  most  precious,  but 
alas !  for  the  long  and  wide  separation.  What  an  envi- 
able memory  she  leaves !  No  shadows  to  dim  its  beauty. 

I  send  you,  dear,  a  statement  regarding  my  relations 
with  Lee  and  Shepard.  I  am  much  disheartened  about 
my  poems  and  almost  feel  like  giving  up.   But  I  won't. 

Affect., 

Mother. 

In  November,  1897,  she  sailed  for  Italy  with  the 
Elliotts; 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER 

1897-1898;  aet.  78 
THE  CITY  OF  MY  LOVE 

She  sits  among  th'  eternal  hills, 
Their  crown,  thrice  glorious  and  dear; 
Her  voice  is  as  a  thousand  tongues 
Of  silver  fountains,  gurgling  clear. 

Her  breath  is  prayer,  her  life  is  love, 
And  worship  of  all  lovely  things; 
Her  children  have  a  gracious  port, 
Her  beggars  show  the  blood  of  kings. 

By  old  Tradition  guarded  close, 

None  doubt  the  grandeur  she  has  seen; 

Upon  her  venerable  front 

Is  written:   "  I  was  born  a  Queen!  " 

She  rules  the  age  by  Beauty's  power, 
As  once  she  ruled  by  armed  might; 
The  Southern  sun  doth  treasure  her 
Deep  in  his  golden  heart  of  light. 

Awe  strikes  the  traveller  when  he  sees 
The  vision  of  her  distant  dome, 
And  a  strange  spasm  wrings  his  heart 
As  the  guide  whispers:   "  There  is  Rome!  " 

And,  though  it  seem  a  childish  prayer, 
I've  breathed  it  oft,  that  when  I  die, 
As  thy  remembrance  dear  in  it, 
That  heart  in  thee  might  buried  lie. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  closing  verse  of  her  early  poem,  "The  City  of 
My  Love,"  expresses  the  longing  that,  like  Shelley's, 
her  heart  "might  buried  lie"  in  Rome.  Some  memory 
of  this  wish,  some  foreboding  that  the  wish  might  be 


238  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

granted,  possibly  darkened  the  first  days  of  her  last 
Roman  winter.  In  late  November  of  the  year  1897 
she  arrived  in  Rome  with  the  Elliotts  to  pass  the 
winter  at  their  apartment  in  the  ancient  Palazzo 
Rusticucci  of  the  old  Leonine  City  across  the  Tiber; 
in  the  shadow  of  St.  Peter's,  next  door  to  the  Vatican. 
The  visit  had  been  planned  partly  in  the  hope  that  she 
might  once  more  see  her  sister  Louisa.  In  this  we  know 
she  was  disappointed.  They  reached  Rome  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  rainy  season,  which  fell  late  that  year. 
All  these  causes  taken  together  account  for  an  unfa- 
miliar depression  that  creeps  into  the  Journal.  She 
missed,  too,  the  thousand  interests  of  her  Boston  life; 
her  church,  her  club,  her  meetings,  all  the  happy  busi- 
ness of  keeping  a  grandmother's  house  where  three 
generations  and  their  friends  were  made  welcome.  At 
home  every  hour  of  time  was  planned  for,  every  ounce 
of  power  well  invested  in  some  "  labor  worthy  of  her 
metal."  In  Rome  her  only  work  at  first  was  the  writing 
of  her  "  Reminiscences"  for  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 
Happily,  the  depression  was  short-lived.  Gradually 
the  ancient  spell  of  the  Great  Enchantress  once  more 
enthralled  her,  but  it  was  not  until  she  had  founded  a 
club,  helped  to  found  a  Woman's  Council,  begun  to 
receive  invitations  to  lecture  and  to  preach,  that  the 
accustomed  joie  de  vivre  pulses  through  the  record. 
The  sower  is  at  work  again,  the  ground  is  fertile,  the 
seed  quickening. 

"December  1.   The  first  day  of  this  winter,  which 
God  help  me  to  live  through!    Dearest  Maud  is  all 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  239 

kindness  and  devotion  to  me,  and  so  is  Jack,  but  I 
have  Rome  en  grippe;  nothing  in  it  pleases  me." 

"December  6.  Something,  perhaps  it  is  the  bright 
weather,  moves  me  to  activity  so  strongly  that  I  has- 
ten to  take  up  my  pen,  hoping  not  to  lapse  into  the 
mood  of  passive  depression  which  has  possessed  me 
ever  since  my  arrival  in  Rome." 

"December  7.  We  visited  the  [William  J.]  Stillmans 
—  S.  and  I  had  not  met  in  thirty  years,  not  since  '67 
in  Athens.  Went  to  afternoon  tea  at  Miss  Leigh 
Smith's.  She  is  a  cousin  of  Florence  Nightingale, 
whom  she  resembles  in  appearance.  Mme.  Helbig 
was  there,  overflowing  as  ever  with  geniality  and 
kindness." 

Mr.  Stillman  was  then  the  Roman  correspondent  of 
the  London  "Times,"  a  position  only  second  in  impor- 
tance to  that  of  the  British  Ambassador.  His  tall,  lean 
figure,  stooping  shoulders,  —  where  a  pet  squirrel  often 
perched,  —  his  long  grey  beard  and  keen  eyes  were 
familiar  to  the  Romans  of  that  day.  His  house  was  a 
meeting-place  for  artists  and  litterati.  Mrs.  Stillman 
our  mother  had  formerly  known  as  the  beautiful  Marie 
Spartali,  the  friend  of  Rossetti  and  Du  Maurier,  the 
idol  of  literary  and  artistic  London.  A  warm  friend- 
ship grew  up  between  them.  Together  they  frequented 
the  antiquaries,  gleaning  small  treasures  of  ancient 
lace  and  peasant  jewels. 

"I  bought  this  by  the  Muse  Stillman's  advice": 
this  explanation  guaranteed  the  wisdom  of  purchasing 
the  small  rose  diamond  ring  set  in  black  enamel. 


240  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"December  9.  Dined  with  Daisy  Chanler.  We  met 
there  one  Brewster  and  Hendrik  Anderson.  After 
dinner  came  Palmer  [son  of  Courtland]  and  his  sister. 
He  is  a  pianist  of  real  power  and  charm  —  made  me 
think  of  Paderewski,  when  I  first  heard  him.  ..." 

"December  10.  Drove  past  the  Trevi  Fountain  and 
to  the  Coliseum,  where  we  walked  awhile.  Ladies 
came  to  hear  me  talk  about  Women's  Clubs.  This 
talk,  which  I  had  rather  dreaded  to  give,  passed  off 
pleasantly.  .  .  .  Most  of  the  ladies  present  expressed 
the  desire  to  have  a  small  and  select  club  of  women 
in  Rome.  Maud  volunteered  to  make  the  first  effort, 
with  Mme.  DesGrange  and  Jessie  Cochrane  to  help 
her." 

"  December  12.  Bessie  Crawford  brought  her  children 
to  see  me.  Very  fine  little  creatures,  the  eldest  boy  1 
handsome,  dark  like  his  mother,  the  others  blond  and 
a  good  deal  like  Marion  in  his  early  life." 

"December  1^.  In  the  afternoon  drove  with  Jack  to 
visit  Villegas.  Found  a  splendid  house  with  absolutely 
no  fire  —  the  cold  of  the  studio  was  tomb-like.  A  fire 
was  lighted  in  a  stove  and  cakes  were  served,  with 
some  excellent  Amontillado  wine,  which  I  think  saved 
my  life." 

"December  18.  When  I  lay  down  to  take  my  nap 
before  dinner,  I  had  a  sudden  thought-vision  of  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  seemed  to 
see  how  the  human  could  in  a  way  reflect  the  glory 
of  the  divine,  giving  not  a  mechanical,  but  an   affec- 

1  Harold  Crawford,  who  was  killed  in  the  present  war  (1915),  6ghting 
for  the  Allies. 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  241 

tional  and  spiritual  re-showing  of  the  great  unfathom- 
able glory.  I  need  not  say  that  I  had  no  sleep  —  I 
wish  the  glimpse  then  given  me  might  remain  in  my 
mind." 

"December  21.  Feeling  much  better  in  health,  I 
determined  to  take  up  my  'Reminiscences'  again. 
Mme.  Rose  passed  the  evening  with  me.  She  told  me 
that  Pio  Nono  had  endorsed  the  Rosminian  philoso- 
phy, which  had  had  quite  a  following  in  the  Church, 
Cardinal  Hohenlohe  having  been  very  prominent  in 
this.  When  Leo  XIII  was  elected,  the  Jesuits  came 
to  him  and  promised  that  he  should  have  a  Jubilee  if 
he  would  take  part  against  the  Rosminian  ideas,  and 
put  the  books  on  the  Index  Expurgatorius,  the  which 
he  promptly  did.  Hohenlohe  is  supposed  to  have  been 
the  real  hero  of  the  poisoning  described  in  Zola's 
'Rome'  —  his  servant  died  after  having  eaten  of  some- 
thing which  had  been  sent  from  the  Vatican." 

"December  25.  Blessed  Christmas  Day!  Maud  and 
I  went  to  St.  Peter's  to  get,  as  she  said,  a  whiff  of  the 
mass.  We  did  not  profit  much  by  this,  but  met  Edward 
Jackson,  of  Boston,  and  Monsignor  Stanley,  whom  I 
had  not  seen  in  many  years.  We  had  a  pleasant  fore- 
gathering with  him. 

"  In  St.  Peter's  my  mind  became  impressed  with 
the  immense  intellectual  force  pledged  to  the  upbuild- 
ing and  upholding  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  As  this 
thought  almost  overpowered  me,  I  remembered  our 
dear  Christ  visiting  the  superb  temple  at  Jerusalem 
and  foretelling  its  destruction  and  the  indestructi- 
bility of  his  own  doctrine." 


242  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

On  fair  days  she  took  her  walk  on  the  terrace,  feast- 
ing her  eyes  on  the  splendid  view.  In  the  distance  the 
Alban  and  the  Sabine  Hills,  Mount  Soracte  and  the 
Leonessa;  close  at  hand  the  Tiber,  Rome's  towers  and 
domes,  St.  Peter's  with  the  colonnade,  the  Piazza,  and 
the  sparkling  fountains.  She  delighted  in  the  flowers  of 
the  terrace,  which  she  called  her  "  hanging  garden  " ;  she 
had  her  own  little  watering-pot,  and  faithfully  tended 
the  white  rose  which  she  claimed  as  her  special  charge. 
From  the  terrace  she  looked  across  to  the  windows  of 
the  Pope's  private  apartment.  Opposed  as  she  was 
to  the  Pontiff's  policy,  she  still  felt  a  sympathy  with 
the  old  man,  whose  splendid  prison  she  often  passed 
on  her  way  to  St.  Peter's,  where  in  bad  weather  she 
always  took  her  walk. 

"December  31.  I  am  sorry  to  take  leave  of  this  year, 
which  has  given  me  many  good  things,  some  blessings 
in  disguise,  as  my  lameness  proved,  compelling  me 
to  pass  many  quiet  days,  good  for  study  and  for  my 
'Reminiscences,'  which  I  only  began  in  earnest  after 
Wesselhoeft  condemned  me  to  remain  on  one  floor  for 
a  month." 

"January  3,  1898.  I  feel  that  my  'Reminiscences' 
will  be  disappointing  to  the  world  in  general,  if  it  ever 
troubles  itself  to  read  them,  —  I  feel  quite  sure  that 
it  has  neglected  some  good  writing  of  mine,  in  verse 
and  in  prose.  I  cannot  help  anticipating  for  this  book 
the  same  neglect,  and  this  discourages  me  somewhat. 

"In  the  afternoon  drove  to  Monte  Janiculo  and 
saw  the  wonderful  view  of  Rome,  and  the  equestrian 
statue  of  Garibaldi  crowning  the  height.    We  also 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  243 

drove  through  the  Villa  Pamfili  Doria,  which  is  very 
beautiful." 

"January  6.  To  visit  Countess  Catucci  at  Villino 
Catucci.  She  was  a  Miss  Mary  Stearns,  of  Spring- 
field, Massachusetts.  Her  husband  has  been  an  officer 
of  the  King's  bersaglieri.  Before  the  unification  of 
Italy,  he  was  sent  to  Perugia  to  reclaim  deserters  from 
among  the  recruits  for  the  Italian  army.  Cardinal 
Pecci  was  then  living  near  Perugia.  Count  Catucci 
called  to  assure  him  with  great  politeness  that  he 
would  take  his  word  and  not  search  his  premises.  The 
Cardinal  treated  him  with  equal  politeness,  but  de- 
clined to  continue  the  acquaintance  after  his  removal 
to  Rome,  when  he  became  Pope  in  1878." 

"  January  12.  The  first  meeting  of  our  little  circle  — 
at  Miss  Leigh  Smith's,  17  Trinita  dei  Monti.  I  pre- 
sided and  introduced  Richard  Norton,  who  gave  an 
interesting  account  of  the  American  School  of  Archae- 
ology at  Athens,  and  of  the  excavations  at  Athens.  .  .  . 
Anderson  to  dine.  He  took  a  paper  outline  of  my  pro- 
file, wishing  to  model  a  bust  of  me." 

The  Winthrop  Chanlers  were  passing  the  winter  in 
Rome;  this  added  much  to  her  pleasure.  The  de- 
pression gradually  disappeared,  and  she  found  her- 
self once  more  at  home  there.  She  met  many  people 
who  interested  her:  Hall  Caine,  Bjornstjerne  Bjorn- 
son,  many  artists  too.  Don  Jose  Villegas,  the  great 
Spanish  painter  (now  Director  of  the  Prado  Museum 
at  Madrid),  who  was  living  in  his  famous  Moorish 
villa  on  the  Monte  Parioli,  made  a  brilliant,  realistic 


244  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

portrait  of  her,  and  Hendrik  Anderson,  the  Norwegian- 
American  sculptor,  modelled  an  interesting  terra-cotta 
bust.  While  the  sittings  for  these  portraits  were  going 
on,  her  niece  said  to  her :  — 

"  My  aunt,  I  can  expect  almost  anything  of  you,  but 
I  had  hardly  expected  a  succes  de  beaute." 

Among  the  diplomats  who  play  so  prominent  a  part 
in  Roman  society,  the  Jonkheer  John  Loudon,  Secre- 
tary of  the  Netherlands  Legation,  was  one  of  her  favor- 
ite visitors;  there  are  frequent  mentions  of  his  singing, 
which  she  took  pleasure  in  accompanying. 

"January  15.  We  had  a  pleasant  drive  to  Villa 
Madama  where  we  bought  fresh  eggs  from  a  peasant. 
Cola  cut  much  greenery  for  us  with  which  Maud  had 
our  rooms  decorated.  Attended  Mrs.  Heywood's  re- 
ception, where  met  some  pleasant  people  —  the  Scud- 
der  party;  an  English  Catholic  named  Christmas,  who 
visits  the  poor,  and  reports  the  misery  among  them  as 
very  great ;  a  young  priest  from  Boston,  Monsignor 
O'Connell;1  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mulhorn,  Irish,  —  he 
strong  on  statistics,  she  a  writer  on  Celtic  antiquities, 
—  has  published  a  paper  on  the  Celtic  origin  of  the 
'Divina  Commedia,'  and  has  written  one  on  the  dis- 
covery of  America  by  Irish  Danes,  five  hundred  years 
before  Columbus." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  C.  Heywood  lived  a  few  doors  from 
the  Rusticucci  in  the  Palazzo  Giraud  Torlonia,  one 
of  the  finest  Roman  palaces.  Mr.  Heywood  held  an 
office  in  the  Papal  Court,  and  had  a  papal  title  which 

*  Now  Cardinal  O'Connell. 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  245 

he  was  wise  enough  not  to  use  in  general  society.  He 
was  an  American,  a  Harvard  graduate  of  the  class  of 
1855.  His  chief  occupation,  outside  of  his  duties  at  the 
Vatican,  was  the  collection  of  a  fine  library.  His  house 
was  a  rendezvous  of  Black *  society.  He  lived  in  much 
state  and  entertained  with  brilliant  formality.  Among 
the  great  social  events  of  that  winter  was  his  recep- 
tion given  for  Cardinal  Satolli,  who  arrived  dressed  in 
splendid  vestments,  escorted  by  his  suite.  The  hostess 
courtesied  to  the  ground  and  kissed  the  ring  on  his 
finger.  All  the  other  Catholic  ladies  followed  suit. 
Sitting  very  straight  in  her  chair,  our  mother  bided  her 
time;  finally  the  Cardinal  was  brought  to  her.  He  was 
a  genial,  courteous  man  and  very  soon  they  were 
deep  in  friendly  talk.  Though  she  disliked  the  Roman 
hierarchy  as  an  institution,  she  counted  many  friends 
among  the  priests  of  Rome. 

"January  18.  To  St.  Peter's.  The  Festival  of  St. 
Peter's  Chair.  Vespers  in  the  usual  side  chapel.  Music 
on  the  whole  good,  some  sopranos  rather  ragged,  but 
parts  beautifully  sung.  Was  impressed  as  usual  by  the 
heterogeneous  attendance  —  tourists  with  campstools 
and  without,  ecclesiastics  of  various  grades,  students, 
friars;  one  splendid  working-man  in  his  corduroys 
stood  like  a  statue,  in  an  attitude  of  fixed  attention. 
Lowly  fathers  and  mothers  carrying  small  children. 
One  lady,  seated  high  at  the  base  of  a  column,  put  her 
feet  on  the  seat  of  my  stool  behind  me.  Saw  the  gor- 
geous ring  on  the  finger  of  the  statue  of  St.  Peter." 

"January  19.   Have  composed  a  letter  to  Professor 

1  I.e.,  Clerical. 


246  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Lanciani,  asking  for  a  talk  on  the  afternoon  of  Febru- 
ary 9,  proposing  'Houses  and  Housekeeping  in  Ancient 
Rome,'  and  'The  Sibyls  of  Italy.'  Mr.  Baddeley  came 
in,  and  we  had  an  interesting  talk,  mostly  about  the 
ancient  Caesars,  Mrs.  Hollins  asking,  'Why  did  the  Ro- 
mans put  up  with  the  bad  Caesars?'  He  thought  the 
increase  of  wealth  under  Augustus  was  the  beginning 
of  a  great  deterioration  of  the  people  and  the  officials." 

"January  21.  Went  in  the  afternoon  to  call  upon 
Baroness  Giacchetti.  Had  a  pleasant  talk  with  her 
husband,  an  enlightened  man.  He  recognizes  the  pres- 
ent status  of  Rome  as  greatly  superior  to  the  ancient 
order  of  things  —  but  laments  the  ignorance  and  su- 
perstition of  the  common  people  in  general,  and  the 
peasantry  in  particular.  A  sick  woman,  restored  to 
health  by  much  trouble  taken  at  his  instance,  instead 
of  thanking  him  for  his  benefactions,  told  him  that 
she  intended  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  a 
certain  Madonna,  feeling  sure  that  it  was  to  her  that 
she  owed  her  cure." 

"January  26.  The  day  of  my  reading  before  the 
Club,  at  Jessie  Cochrane's  rooms.  I  read  my  lecture 
over  very  carefully  in  the  forenoon  and  got  into  the 
spirit  of  it.  The  gathering  was  a  large  one,  very  at- 
tentive, and  mostly  very  appreciative.  The  paper  was 
'Woman  in  the  Greek  Drama.'  " 

"January  31.  Have  made  a  special  prayer  that  my 
mind  may  be  less  occupied  with  my  own  shortcomings, 
and  more  with  all  that  keeps  our  best  hope  alive.  Felt 
little  able  to  write,  but  produced  a  good  page  on  the 
principle  'nulla  dies  sine  linea.'  " 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  247 

"February  4-  Hard  sledding  for  words  to-day  — 
made  out  something  about  Theodore  Parker." 

"February  7.  Wrote  some  pages  of  introduction  for 
the  Symposium  —  played  a  rubber  of  whist  with 
L.  Terry;  then  to  afternoon  tea  with  Mrs.  Thorndike, 
where  I  met  the  first  Monsignor  [Dennis]  O'Connell, 
with  whom  I  had  a  long  talk  on  the  woman  question, 
in  which  he  seems  much  interested.  He  tells  me  of 
a  friend,  Zahm  by  name,  now  gone  to  a  place  in  Indi- 
ana, who  has  biographies  of  the  historical  women  of 
Bologna." 

"February  9.  Club  at  Mrs.  Broadwood's.  I  read  my 
'Plea  for  Humor,'  which  seemed  to  please  the  audience 
very  much,  especially  Princess  Talleyrand  and  Prin- 
cess Poggia-Suasa." 

"February  11.  Read  over  my  paper  on  'Optimism 
and  Pessimism'  and  have  got  into  the  spirit  of  it. 
Maud's  friends  came  at  3  p.m.,  among  them  Christian 
Ross,  the  painter,  with  Bjbrnstjerne  Bjornson." 

"February  16.  To  Mrs.  Hurlburt's  reception.  — 
Talked  with  Countess  Blank,  an  American  married  to 
a  Pole.  She  had  much  to  say  of  the  piety  of  her  Arab 
servant,  who,  she  says,  swallows  fire,  cuts  himself  with 
sharp  things,  etc.,  as  acts  of  devotion  ! !  Met  Mr. 
Trench,  son  of  the  late  Archbishop,  Rev.  Chevenix 
Trench.  He  has  been  Tennyson's  publisher.  Did  not 
like  T.  personally  —  said  he  was  often  rude  —  read 
his  own  poems  aloud  constantly  and  very  badly;  said, 
'No  man  is  a  hero  to  his  publisher.'  Told  about  his 
sale  of  Henry  George's  book,  a  cheap  edition,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  copies  sold  in  England." 


248  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"February  18.  Have  done  a  good  morning's  work 
and  read  in  the  'Nineteenth  Century'  an  article  on 
Nelson,  and  one  on  the  new  astronomy.  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas's  advice  regarding  the  election  of  an  abbot 
from  three  candidates :  — ■ 

'"What  manner  of  man  is  the  first?' 
'  Doctissimus.' 

"'Doceat,'  says  St.  Thomas.   'And  the  second?' 
Sanctissimus.' 

iliOret!  and  the  third?' 
'  Prudentissimus  ! ' 
'Regat!  Let  him  rule!'  says  the  Saint." 

"February  20.  To  Methodist  Church  of  Rev.  Mr. 
Burt.  A  sensible  short  discourse  —  seems  a  very  sin- 
cere man:  has  an  earlier  service  for  Italians,  well 
attended.  On  my  way  home,  stopped  at  Gargiulo's 
and  bought  a  ragged  but  very  good  copy  of  the 
'Divina  Commedia,'  unbound,  with  Dore's  illustra- 
tions." 

"February  26.  To  tea  at  Mrs.  Hazeltine's  where  met 
William  Allen  Butler,  author  of  'Nothing  to  Wear'  — 
a  bright-eyed,  conversable  man.  Have  a  sitting  to 
Anderson.  When  I  returned  from  Mrs.  Hazeltine's  I 
found  Hall  Caine.  .  .  .  He  told  much  about  Gabriel 
Rossetti,  with  whom  he  had  much  to  do.  Rossetti  was 
a  victim  of  chloral,  and  Caine  was  set  to  keep  him 
from  it,  except  in  discreet  doses." 

"March  4-  WTent  to  see  the  King  and  Queen,  re- 
turning from  the  review  of  troops.  They  were  coldly 
received.  She  wore  crimson  velvet  —  he  was  on  horse- 
back and  in  uniform.  ..." 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  249 

"March  9.  Club  at  Jessie  Cochrane's;  young  Loyson, 
son  of  Pere  Hyacinthe,  gave  an  interesting  lecture  on 
the  religion  of  Ancient  Rome,  which  he  traced  back  to 
its  rude  Latin  beginning;  the  Sabines,  he  thought,  in- 
troduced into  it  one  element  of  spirituality.  Its  my- 
thology was  borrowed  from  Greece  and  from  the  Etrus- 
cans —  later  from  Egypt  and  the  East.  The  Primitive 
Aryan  religion  was  the  worship  of  ancestors.  This  also 
we  see  in  Rome.  A  belief  in  immortality  appears  in 
the  true  Aryan  faith.  Man,  finding  himself  human, 
and  related  to  the  divine,  felt  that  he  could  not  die." 

"March  15.  .  .  .  Mme.  Helbig  gave  us  an  account  of 
the  Russian  pilgrimage  which  came  here  lately.  Many 
of  the  pilgrims  were  peasants.  They  travelled  from 
Russia  on  foot,  wearing  bark  shoes,  which  are  very 
yielding  and  soft.  These  Russian  ladies  deprecated  the 
action  of  Peter  the  Great  in  building  St.  Petersburg,, 
and  in  forcing  European  civilization  upon  his  nation, 
when  still  unprepared  for  it." 

"March  18.  ...  Drove  with  Maud,  to  get  white 
thorn  from  Villa  Madama.  Went  afterwards  to  Mrs. 
Waldo  Story's  reception,  where  met  Mrs.  McTavish, 
youngest  daughter  of  General  Winfield  Scott.  I  was 
at  school  with  one  of  her  older  sisters,  Virginia,  who 
became  a  nun." 

As  the  winter  wore  away  and  the  early  Roman 
spring  broke,  the  last  vestige  of  the  discomfort  of  the 
first  weeks  vanished.  The  daily  drives  to  the  country 
in  search  of  wild  flowers  were  an  endless  delight,  as 
well  as  the  trips  to  the  older  quarters  of  the  city.  She 


250  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

found  that,  while  during  the  first  weeks  she  had  lost 
the  habit  of  looking  keenly  about  at  the  sights,  the  old 
joy  soon  came  back  to  her,  and  now  she  was  quick  to 
see  every  picturesque  figure  in  the  crowd,  every  classic 
fragment  in  the  architecture.  "The  power  of  seeing 
beautiful  things,  like  all  other  powers,  must  be  exer- 
cised to  be  preserved,"  she  once  said. 

"March  19.  I  have  not  dared  to  work  to-day,  as  I 
am  to  read  this  afternoon.  The  reading  was  well  at- 
tended and  was  more  than  well  received.  Hall  Caine 
came  afterwards,  and  talked  long,  about  the  Bible.  He 
does  not  appear  to  be  familiar  with  the  most  recent 
criticism  of  either  Old  or  New  Testament." 

"March  2J/,.  'There  is  a  third  silent  party  to  all  our 
bargains.'   [Emerson.] 

"I  find  this  passage  in  his  essay  on  'Compensation' 
to-day  for  the  first  time,  having  written  my  essay  on 
'Moral  Triangulation  of  the  Third  Party'  some  thirty 
years  ago." 

"  March  26.  Dined  with  Mrs.  McCreary  —  the  Duke 
of  San  Martino  took  me  in  to  dinner  —  Monsignor 
Dennis  O'Connell  sat  on  the  other  side  of  me.  I  had 
an  interesting  talk  with  him.  Mrs.  McCreary  sang  my 
'Battle  Hymn.'  They  begged  me  to  recite  'The  Flag,' 
which  I  did.  Mrs.  Pearse,  daughter  of  Mario  and 
Grisi,  sang  delightfully." 

"March  30.  A  fine  luncheon  party  given  by  Mrs. 
Iddings,  wife  of  the  American  Secretary  of  Embassy 
at  the  Grand  Hotel.  Mme.  Ristori  was  there;  I  had 
some  glimpses  of  reminiscence  with  her.  I  met  her 
with  'La  terribil'  Medea,'  which  I  so  well  remember 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  251 

hearing  from  her.  I  presently  quoted  her  toast  in  'La 
Locandiera,'  of  which  she  repeated  the  last  two  lines. 
Maud  had  arranged  to  have  Mrs.  Hurlburt  help  me 
home.  Contessa  Spinola  also  offered,  but  I  got  off 
alone,  came  home  in  time  to  hear  most  of  Professor 
Pansotti's  lecture  on  the  Gregorian  music,  which, 
though  technical,  was  interesting." 

"March  31.  I  woke  up  at  one,  after  vividly  dream- 
ing of  my  father  and  Dr.  Francis.  My  father  came  in, 
and  said  to  me  that  he  wished  to  speak  to  Miss  Julia 
alone.  I  trembled,  as  I  so  often  did,  lest  I  was  about 
to  receive  some  well-merited  rebuke.  He  said  that  he 
wished  my  sister  and  me  to  stay  at  home  more.  I  saw 
the  two  faces  very  clearly.  My  father's  I  had  not  seen 
for  fifty-nine  years." 

"April  6.  Went  in  the  afternoon  with  Mrs.  Stillman 
to  the  Campo  dei  Fiori,  where  bought  two  pieces  of 
lace  for  twenty  lire  each,  and  a  little  cap-pin  for  five 
lire.  Saw  a  small  ruby  and  diamond  ring  which  I  very 
much  fancied." 

"April  10.  Easter  Sunday,  passed  quietly  at  home. 
Had  an  early  walk  on  the  terrace.  ...  A  good  talk  with 
Hamilton  Aide,  who  told  me  of  the  Spartali  family. 
In  the  afternoon  to  Lady  Kenmare's  reception  and 
later  to  dine  with  the  Lindall  Winthrops." 

"April  11.  In  the  afternoon  Harriet  Monroe,  of 
Chicago,  came  and  read  her  play — a  parlor  drama, 
ingenious  and  well  written.  The  audience  were  much 
pleased  with  it." 

"April  13.  ...  In  the  evening  dined  with  Theo- 
dore Davis  and  Mrs.  Andrews.  Davis  showed  us  his 


252  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

treasures  gathered  on  the  Nile  shore  and  gave  me  a 
scarab." 

"April  18.  ...  Went  to  hear  Canon  Farrar  on  the 
'  Inferno '  of  Dante  —  the  lecture  very  scholarly  and 
good." 

"April  22.  With  Anderson  to  the  Vatican,  to  see 
the  Pinturicchio  frescoes,  which  are  very  interesting. 
He  designed  the  tiling  for  the  floors,  which  is  beauti- 
ful in  color,  matching  well  with  the  frescoes  —  these 
represent  scenes  in  the  life  of  the  Virgin  and  of  St. 
Catherine.  ..." 

"April  24-.  To  Miss  Leigh  Smith's,  where  I  read  my 
sermon  on  the  'Still  Small  Voice'  to  a  small  company 
of  friends,  explaining  that  it  was  written  in  the  first 
instance  for  the  Concord  Prison,  and  that  I  read  it 
there  to  the  convicts.  I  prefaced  the  sermon  by  read- 
ing one  of  the  parables  in  my  'Later  Lyrics,'  'Once, 
where  men  of  high  pretension,'  etc.  ..." 

This  was  one  of  several  occasions  when  she  read  a 
sermon  at  the  house  of  Miss  Leigh  Smith,  a  stanch 
Unitarian,  who  lived  at  the  Trinita  de'  Monti  in  the 
house  near  the  top  of  the  Spanish  Steps,  held  by  gen- 
erations of  English  and  American  residents  the  most 
advantageous  dwelling  in  Rome.  On  Sunday  morn- 
ings, when  the  bells  of  Rome  thrilled  the  air  with  the 
call  to  prayer,  a  group  of  exiles  from  many  lands 
gathered  in  the  pleasant  English-looking  drawing- 
room.  From  the  windows  they  could  look  down 
upon  the  flower-decked  Piazza  di  Spagna,  hear  the 
song  of  the  nightingales  in  the  Villa  Medici,  breathe 
the  perfume  of  violets  and  almond   blossoms  from 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  253 

the  Pincio.  This  morning,  or  another,  Paul  Sabatier 
was  among  the  listeners,  a  grave,  gracious  man,  a 
Savoyard  pastor,  whose  "Life  of  Saint  Francis  of 
Assisi"  had  set  all  Rome  talking. 

"April  25.  To  lunch  with  the  Drapers.  Had  some 
good  talk  with  Mr.  D.  [the  American  Ambassador]. 
He  was  brought  up  at  Hopedale  in  the  Community, 
of  which  his  father  was  a  member,  his  mother  not 
altogether  acquiescing.  He  went  into  our  Civil  War 
when  only  twenty  years  of  age,  having  the  day  before 
married  a  wife.  He  was  badly  wounded  in  the  battle 
of  the  Wilderness.  Mosby  [guerilla]  met  the  wounded 
train,  and  stripped  them  of  money  and  watches,  tak- 
ing also  the  horses  of  their  conveyances.  A  young 
Irish  lad  of  fourteen  saved  Draper's  life  by  running  to 
Bull  Plain  for  aid." 

"April  26.  Lunch  at  Daisy  Chanler's,  to  meet  Mrs. 
Sanford,  of  Hamilton,  Canada,  who  is  here  in  the 
interests  of  the  International  Council  of  Women.  She 
seems  a  nice,  whole-souled  woman.  ...  I  have  prom- 
ised to  preside  at  a  meeting,  called  at  Daisy's  rooms  for 
Thursday,  to  carry  forward  such  measures  as  we  can 
and  to  introduce  Mrs.  Sanford  and  interpret  for  her." 

"April  27.  Devoted  the  forenoon  to  a  composition  in 
French,  setting  forth  the  objects  of  the  meeting.  ..." 

"April  28.  Went  carefully  over  my  French  address. 
In  the  afternoon  attended  the  meeting  at  Daisy's 
where  I  presided." 

This  was  the  first  time  the  Italian  women  had  taken 
part  in  the  International  Council. 

"April  30.   To  Contessa  di  Taverna  at   Palazzo 


254  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Gabrielli,  where  I  met  the  little  knot  of  newly  elected 
officers  of  the  Council  of  Italian  Women  that  is  to 
be.  Read  them  my  report  of  our  first  meeting  —  they 
chattered  a  great  deal.  Mrs.  Sanford  was  present. 
She  seemed  grateful  for  the  help  I  had  tried  to  give  to 
her  plan  of  a  National  Council  of  Italian  Women.  I 
induced  the  ladies  present  to  subscribe  a  few  lire  each, 
for  the  purchase  of  a  book  for  the  secretary,  for  postage 
and  for  the  printing  of  their  small  circular.  Hope  to 
help  them  more  further  on.  ..." 

"May  1.  ...  I  gave  my  'Rest'  sermon  at  Miss 
Leigh  Smith's.  .  .  .  Afterwards  to  lunch  with  the  dear 
Stillman  Muse.  Lady  Airlie  and  the  Thynne  sisters 
were  there.  Had  a  pleasant  talk  with  Lady  Beatrice. 
.  .  .  Wrote  a  letter  to  be  read  at  the  Suffrage  Festival 
in  Boston  on  May  17.  ..." 

Lady  Beatrice  and  Lady  Katherine  Thynne;  the 
latter  was  married  later  to  Lord  Cromer,  Viceroy  of 
Egypt.  The  Ladies  Thynne  were  passing  the  winter 
with  their  cousin,  the  Countess  of  Kenmare,  at  her 
pleasant  apartment  in  the  Via  Gregoriana.  Among 
the  guests  one  met  at  Lady  Kenmare's  was  a  dark, 
handsome  Monsignore  who  spoke  English  like  an 
Oxford  Don,  and  looked  like  a  Torquemada.  Later 
he  became  Papal  Secretary  of  State  and  Cardinal 
Merry  del  Val. 

"May  2.  Have  worked  as  usual.  A  pleasant  late 
drive.  Dined  with  Eleutherio,1  Daisy  Chanler,  and 
Dr.  Bull;  whist  afterwards;  news  of  an  engagement 
and  victory  for  us  off  Manila." 

1  Her  brother-in-law,  Luther  Terry. 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER         255 

"May  4-  •  •  •  We  dined  with  Marchese  and  Mar- 
chesa  de  Viti  de  Marco  at  Palazzo  Orsini.  Their  rooms 
are  very  fine,  one  hung  with  beautiful  crimson  damask. 
An  author,  Pascarello,  was  present,  who  has  written 
comic  poems  in  the  Romanesque  dialect,  the  principal 
one  a  mock  narrative  of  the  discovery  of  America  by 
Columbus.  Our  host  is  a  very  intelligent  man,  much 
occupied  with  questions  of  political  economy,  of  which 
science  he  is  professor  at  the  Collegio  Romano.  His 
wife,  an  American,  is  altogether  pleasing.  He  spoke 
of  the  present  Spanish  War,  of  which  foreigners  under- 
stand but  little." 

"May  5.  A  visit  from  Contessa  di  Taverna  to  confer 
with  me  about  the  new  departure  [the  International 
Council  of  Women].  She  says  that  the  ladies  will  not 
promise  to  pay  the  stipulated  contribution,  five  hun- 
dred lire  once  in  five  years,  to  the  parent  associa- 
tion  " 

"May  8.  An  exquisite  hour  with  dear  Maud  on  the 
terrace  —  the  roses  in  their  glory,  red,  white,  and  yel- 
low; honeysuckle  out,  brilliant.  We  sat  in  a  sheltered 
spot,  talked  of  things  present  and  to  come.  Robert 
Collyer  to  lunch.  I  asked  him  to  say  grace,  which 
he  did  in  his  lovely  manner.  He  enjoyed  Maud's 
terrace  with  views  of  St.  Peter's  and  the  mountains. 
In  the  afternoon  took  a  little  drive. 

"  Several  visitors  called,  among  them  Louisa  Broad- 
wood,  from  whom  I  learned  that  the  little  Committee 
for  a  Woman's  Council  is  going  on.  The  ladies  have 
decided  not  to  join  the  International  at  present,  but 
to  try  and  form  an  Italian  Council  first.    Some  good 


256  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

results  are  already  beginning  to  appear  in  the  cooper- 
ation of  two  separate  charities  in  some  part  of  their 
work." 

"May  9.  I  must  now  give  all  diligence  to  my  prepa- 
ration for  departure.  Cannot  write  more  on  'Remi- 
niscences' until  I  reach  home.  Maud  made  a  dead  set 
against  my  going  to  Countess  Resse's  where  a  number 
of  ladies  had  been  invited  to  meet  me.  I  most  unwill- 
ingly gave  up  this  one  opportunity  of  helping  the 
Woman's  Cause;  I  mean  this  one  remaining  occasion, 
as  I  have  already  spoken  twice  to  women  and  have 
given  two  sermons  and  read  lectures  five  times.  It 
is  true  that  there  might  have  been  some  exposure  in 
going  to  Mme.  R.'s,  especially  in  coming  out  after 
speaking." 

A  few  years  after  this,  the  Association  which  she 
did  so  much  to  found,  held  the  first  Woman's  Congress 
ever  given  in  Italy,  at  the  Palace  of  Justice  in  Rome. 
It  was  an  important  and  admirably  conducted  con- 
vention. The  work  for  the  uplift  of  the  sex  is  going 
on  steadily  and  well  in  Italy  to-day. 

"May  12.  Sat  to  Villegas  all  forenoon.  Had  a  little 
time  on  the  terrace.  Thought  I  would  christen  it  the 
'Praise  God.'  The  flowers  seem  to  me  to  hold  their 
silent  high  mass,  swinging  their  own  censers  of  sweet 
incense.  Went  to  Jack's  studio  and  saw  his  splendid 
work.1  In  the  afternoon  went  with  my  brother-in-law 
to  the  cemetery  to  visit  dear  Louisa's  grave.  Jack  had 
cut  for  me  many  fine  roses  from  the  terrace.    We 

1  Elliott  was  at  work  upon  his  Triumph  of  Time,  a  ceiling  decoration 
for  the  Boston  Public  Library. 


THE  LAST  ROMAN  WINTER  257 

dropped  many  on  this  dear  resting-place  of  one  much 
and  justly  beloved.  .  .  .  Dear  old  Majesty  of  Rome, 
this  is  my  last  writing  here.  I  thank  God  most  ear- 
nestly for  so  much." 


CHAPTER  XI 

EIGHTY  YEARS 

1899-1900;  aet.  80-81 

HUMANITY 

Methought  a  moment  that  I  stood 
Where  hung  the  Christ  upon  the  Cross, 
Just  when  mankind  had  writ  in  blood 
The  record  of  its  dearest  loss. 

The  bitter  drink  men  offered  him 
His  kingly  gesture  did  decline, 
And  my  heart  sought,  in  musing  dim. 
Some  cordial  for  those  lips  divine. 

When  lo!  a  cup  of  purest  gold 

My  trembling  fingers  did  uphold; 

Within  it  glowed  a  wine  as  red 

As  hearts,  not  grapes,  its  drops  had  shed. 

Drink  deep,  my  Christ,  I  offer  thee 

The  ransom  of  Humanity. 

J.  W.  H. 

Though  Jesus,  alas!  is  as  little  understood  in  doctrine  as  followed  in 
example.  For  he  has  hitherto  been  like  a  beautiful  figure  set  to  point  out 
a  certain  way,  and  people  at  large  have  been  so  entranced  with  worship- 
ping the  figure,  that  they  have  neglected  to  follow  the  direction  it  indi- 
cates. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  winter  of  1898-99  saw  the  publication  of  "From 
Sunset  Ridge;  Poems  Old  and  New."  This  volume 
contained  many  of  the  poems  from  "Later  Lyrics" 
(long  out  of  print),  and  also  much  of  her  later  work. 
It  met  with  a  warm  recognition  which  gave  her  much 
pleasure. 

Late  in  1899  appeared  the  "Reminiscences,"  on 
which  she  had  been  so  long  at  work.  These  were  even 


EIGHTY  YEARS  259 

more  warmly  received,  though  many  people  thought 
them  too  short.  Colonel  Higginson  said  the  work 
might  have  been  "spread  out  into  three  or  four  inter- 
esting octavos;  but  in  her  hurried  grasp  it  is  squeezed 
into  one  volume,  where  groups  of  delightful  interviews 
with  heroes  at  home  and  abroad  are  crowded  into 
some  single  sentence." 

The  book  was  written  mostly  from  memory,  with 
little  use  of  the  Journals,  and  none  of  the  family  letters 
and  papers,  which  she  had  carefully  preserved  through 
many  years;  she  needed  none  of  these  things.  Her  past 
was  always  alive,  and  she  went  hand  in  hand  with  its 
dear  and  gracious  figures. 

But  we  have  outstripped  the  Journals  and  must  go 
back  to  the  beginning  of  1899. 

"[Boston.]  January  1, 1899.  I  begin  this  year  with 
an  anxious  mind.  I  am  fighting  the  Wolf,  hand  to 
hand.  I  am  also  confused  between  the  work  already 
done  on  my  'Reminiscences,'  and  that  still  wanting 
to  give  them  some  completeness.  May  the  All-Father 
help  me!" 

"January  9.  Dined  with  the  Massachusetts  Press 
Club  Association.  I  made  a  little  speech  partly 
thought  out  beforehand.  The  best  bit  in  it —  'Why 
should  we  fear  to  pass  from  the  Old  Testament  of  our 
own  liberties,  to  the  New  Testament  of  liberty  for  all 
the  world?'  —  came  to  me  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment. .  .  ." 

"January  16.  ...  Dickens  Party  at  the  New  Eng- 
land Woman's  Club.  I  despaired  of  being  able  to  go, 
but  did  manage  to  get  up  a  costume  and  take  part. 


260  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Many  very  comical  travesties,  those  of  Pickwick  and 
Captain  Cuttle  remarkably  good;  also  Lucia  M.  Pea- 
body  as  Martin  Chuzzlewit,  and  Mrs.  Godding  in  full 
male  dress  suit.  I  played  a  Virginia  reel  and  finally 
danced  myself." 

The  part  she  herself  took  on  this  occasion  was  that 
of  Mrs.  Jellyby,  a  character  she  professed  to  resemble. 
At  another  club  party  she  impersonated  Mrs.  Jarley, 
with  a  fine  collection  of  celebrities,  which  she  exhib- 
ited proudly.  She  always  put  on  her  best  motley 
for  her  "dear  Club";  and  in  those  days  its  fooling 
was  no  less  notable  than  its  wisdom.  Among  other 
things,  she  instituted  the  Poetical  Picnics,  picnic  sup- 
pers to  which  every  member  must  bring  an  original 
poem:  some  of  her  best  nonsense  was  recited  at  these 
suppers. 

It  has  been  said  that  she  had  the  gift  of  the  word 
in  season.  This  was  often  shown  at  the  Club;  es- 
pecially when,  as  sometimes  happened,  a  question  of 
the  hour  threatened  to  become  "burning."  It  is  re- 
membered how  one  day  a  zealous  sister  thundered  so 
loud  against  corporal  punishment  that  some  mothers 
and  grandames  were  roused  to  equally  ardent  rejoin- 
der.  The  President  was  appealed  to. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Howe,  I  am  sure  that  you  never  laid  a 
hand  on  your  children!" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  dear  Mrs.  Howe.  "I  cuffed  'em  a 
bit  when  I  thought  they  needed  it!" 

Even  "militancy"  could  be  touched  lightly  by  her. 
Talk  was  running  high  on  the  subject  one  day;  eyes 
began  to  flash  ominously,  voices   took   on  "a  wire 


EIGHTY  YEARS  261 

edge,"  as  she  expressed  it.  Again  the  appeal  was 
made. 

"  Can  you  imagine,  Mrs.  Howe,  under  any  circum- 
stances —  " 

The  twinkle  came  into  the  gray  eyes.  "Well!  "  she 
said.  "  I  am  pretty  old,  but  I  think  I  could  manage 
a  broomstick!" 

The  tension  broke  in  laughter,  and  the  sisters  were 
sisters  once  more. 

"January  23.  Worked  as  usual.  Attended  the  meet- 
ing in  favor  of  the  Abolition  of  the  Death  Penalty, 
which  was  interesting.  ...  I  spoke  on  the  ground  of 
hope." 

"February  7.  ...  I  hope  to  take  life  more  easily 
now  than  for  some  time  past,  and  to  have  rest  from 
the  slavery  of  pen  and  ink." 

"February  28.  .  .  .  Was  interviewed  by  a  Miss  X, 
who  has  persevered  in  trying  to  see  me,  and  at  last 

brought  a  note  from .    She  is  part  editor  of  a 

magazine  named  'Success,'  and,  having  effected  an 
entrance,  proceeded  to  interview  me,  taking  down  my 
words  for  her  magazine,  thus  getting  my  ideas  without 
payment,  a  very  mean  proceeding.  ..." 

' '  March  21 .  Tuskegee  benefit,  Hollis  Street  Theatre. 

"This  meeting  scored  a  triumph,  not  only  for  the 
performers,  but  for  the  race.  Bishop  Lawrence  pre- 
sided with  much  good  grace  and  appreciation.  Paul 
Dunbar  was  the  least  distinct.  Professor  Dubois,  of 
Atlanta  University,  read  a  fine  and  finished  discourse. 
Booker  Washington  was  eloquent  as  usual,  and  the 
Hampton  quartet  was  delightful.    At  the  tea  which 


262  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

followed  at  Mrs.  Whitman's  studio,  I  spoke  with  these 
men  and  with  Dunbar's  wife,  a  nearly  white  woman 
of  refined  appearance.  I  asked  Dubois  about  the 
negro  vote  in  the  South.  He  thought  it  better  to  have 
it  legally  taken  away  than  legally  nullified." 

"April  17.  Kindergarten  for  the  Blind.  .  .  .  I  hoped 
for  a  good  word  to  say,  but  could  only  think  of  Shake- 
speare's 'The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them;  the 
good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones,'  intending  to 
say  that  this  does  not  commend  itself  to  me  as  true. 
Mr.  Eels  spoke  before  me  and  gave  me  an  occasion 
to  use  this  with  more  point  than  I  had  hoped.  He 
made  a  rather  flowery  discourse,  and  eulogized  Annie 
Sullivan  and  Helen  Keller  as  a  new  experience  in 
human  society.  In  order  to  show  how  the  good  that 
men  do  survives  them,  I  referred  to  Dr.  Howe's  first 
efforts  for  the  blind  and  to  his  teaching  of  Laura 
Bridgman,  upon  whom  I  dwelt  somewhat.  ..." 

"April  23.  .  .  .  Had  a  sort  of  dream- vision  of  the 
dear  Christ  going  through  Beacon  Street  in  shadow, 
and  then  in  his  glory.  It  was  only  a  flash  of  a  mo- 
ment's thought.  ..." 

"April  25.  To  Alliance,  the  last  meeting  of  the 
season.  Mrs. spoke,  laying  the  greatest  em- 
phasis on  women  acting  so  as  to  express  themselves  in 
freedom.  This  ideal  of  self-expression  appears  to  me 
insufficient  and  dangerous,  if  taken  by  itself.  I  men- 
tioned its  insufficiency,  while  recognizing  its  impor- 
tance. I  compared  feminine  action  under  the  old 
limitations  to  the  touching  of  an  electric  eel,  which 
immediately  gives  one  a  paralyzing  shock.  I  spoke  also 


EIGHTY  YEARS  263 

of  the  new  woman  world  as  at  present  constituted,  as 
like  the  rising  up  from  the  sea  of  a  new  continent.  In 
my  own  youth  women  were  isolated  from  each  other 
by  the  very  intensity  of  their  personal  consciousness. 
I  thought  of  myself  and  of  other  women  in  this  way. 
We  thought  that  superior  women  ought  to  have  been 
born  men.  A  blessed  change  is  that  which  we  have 
witnessed." 

As  her  eightieth  birthday  drew  nigh,  her  friends 
vied  with  one  another  in  loving  observance  of  the 
time.  The  festivities  began  May  17  with  a  meeting  of 
the  New  England  Women's  Press  Association,  where 
she  gave  a  lecture  on  "Patriotism  in  Literature"  and 
received  "eighty  beautiful  pink  roses  for  my  eighty 
years." 

Next  came  the  "annual  meeting  and  lunch  of  the 
New  England  Woman's  Club.  This  took  the  char- 
acter of  a  pre-celebration  of  my  eightieth  birthday, 
and  was  highly  honorific.  I  can  only  say  that  I  do 
not  think  of  myself  as  the  speakers  seemed  to  think 
of  me.  Too  deeply  do  I  regret  my  seasons  of  rebellion, 
and  my  shortcomings  in  many  duties.  Yet  am  I 
thankful  for  so  much  good- will.  I  only  deserve  it 
because  I  return  it." 

Between  this  and  the  day  itself  came  a  memorial 
meeting  in  honor  of  the  ninety-sixth  anniversary  of 
Emerson's  birth.  Here  she  spoke  "mostly  of  the  ladies 
of  his  family  "  —  Emerson's  mother  and  his  wife.  Said 
also,  "Emerson  was  as  great  in  what  he  did  not  say  as 
in  what  he  said.    Second-class  talent  tells  the  whole 


264  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

story,  reasons  everything  out;  great  genius  suggests 
even  more  than  it  says." 

She  was  already  what  she  used  to  call  "Boston's 
old  spoiled  child!"  All  through  the  birthday  flowers, 
letters,  and  telegrams  poured  into  the  house.  From 
among  the  tokens  of  love  and  reverence  may  be  chosen 
the  quatrain  sent  by  Richard  Watson  Gilder :  — 

"  How  few  have  rounded  out  so  full  a  life! 
Priestess  of  righteous  war  and  holy  peace, 
Poet  and  sage,  friend,  sister,  mother,  wife, 
Long  be  it  ere  that  noble  heart  shall  cease!  " 

The  "Woman's  Journal"  issued  a  special  Birthday 
number.  It  was  a  lovely  and  heart-warming  anni- 
versary, the  pleasure  of  which  long  remained  with 
her. 

Among  the  guests  was  the  beloved  physician  of  many 
years,  William  P.  Wesselhoeft.  Looking  round  on  the 
thronged  and  flower-decked  rooms,  he  said,  "This  is 
all  very  fine,  Mrs.  Howe;  but  on  your  ninetieth  birth- 
day I  shall  come,  and  nobody  else!"  Alas!  before 
that  day  the  lion  voice  was  silent,  the  cordial  pres- 
ence gone. 

Three  days  later  came  an  occasion  which  stirred 
patriotic  Boston  to  its  depths.  The  veterans  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  had  invited  Major- 
General  Joseph  Wheeler  to  deliver  the  Memorial  Day 
oration  in  Boston  Theatre.  Our  mother  was  the  second 
guest  of  honor.  She  has  nothing  to  say  of  this  occasion 
beyond  the  fact  that  she  "had  a  great  time  in  the 
morning,"  and  that  in  the  open  carriage  with  her 
sat  "General  Wheeler's  two  daughters  —  very  pleas- 


EIGHTY  YEARS  265 

ing  girls";  but  pasted  in  the  Journal  is  the  following 
clipping  from  the  "Philadelphia  Press":  — 

BOSTON  WARMED  UP 

The  Major  has  just  returned  from  Boston,  where  he  was 
present  at  the  Memorial  Day  services  held  in  Boston 
Theatre. 

It  was  the  real  thing.  I  never  imagined  possible  such  a 
genuine  sweeping  emotion  as  when  that  audience  began  to 
sing  the  "  Battle  Hymn."  If  Boston  was  cold,  it  was  thawed 
by  the  demonstration  on  Tuesday.  Myron  W.  Whitney 
started  to  sing.  He  bowed  to  a  box,  in  which  we  first  recog- 
nized Mrs.  Howe,  sitting  with  the  Misses  Wheeler.  You 
should  have  heard  the  yell.  We  could  see  the  splendid  white 
head  trembling;  then  her  voice  joined  in,  as  Whitney  sang, 
"  In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies,"  and  by  the  time  he  had  reached 
the  words,  — 

"As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free,"  — 

the  whole  vast  audience  was  on  its  feet,  sobbing  and  singing 
at  the  top  of  its  thousands  of  lungs.  If  volunteers  were 
really  needed  for  the  Philippines,  McKinley  could  have  had 
us  all  right  there. 

The  same  evening  she  went  "to  Unitarian  meeting 
in  Tremont  Temple,  where  read  my  screed  about 
Governor  Andrew,  which  has  cost  me  some  work  and 
more  anxiety.  Rev.  S.  A.  Eliot,  whom  I  saw  for  the 
first  time,  was  charmingly  handsome  and  friendly.  I 
was  introduced  as  'Saint  Julia'  and  the  whole  audi- 
ence rose  when  I  came  forward  to  read.  Item:  I  had 
dropped  my  bag  with  my  manuscript  in  the  carriage, 
but  Charles  Fox  telephoned  to  the  stable  and  got  it 
for  me." 
-  The  spring  of  this  year  saw  an  epidemic  of  negro- 


266  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

lynching,  which  roused  deep  indignation  through- 
out the  country.  On  May  20  the  Journal  records 
"a  wonderful  meeting  at  Chickering  Hall,  called  by 
the  colored  women  of  Boston,  to  protest  against  the 
lynching  of  negroes  in  the  South.  Mrs.  Butler  M. 
Wilson  presided,  an  octoroon  and  a  woman  of  educa- 
tion. Her  opening  address  was  excellent  in  spirit  and 
in  execution.  A  daughter  of  Mrs.  RuflSn  also  wrote 
an  excellent  address:  Mrs.  Cheney's  was  very  earnest 
and  impressive.  Alice  Freeman  Palmer  spoke  as  I 
have  never  before  heard  her.  My  rather  brief  speech 
was  much  applauded,  as  were  indeed  all  of  the  others. 
Mrs.  Richard  Hallowell  was  on  the  platform  and 
introduced  Mrs.  Wilson." 

This  brief  speech  brought  upon  her  a  shower  of 
letters,  mostly  anonymous,  from  persons  who  saw 
only  the  anti-negro  side  of  this  matter,  so  dreadful  in 
every  aspect.  These  letters  were  often  denunciatory, 
sometimes  furious  in  tone,  especially  one  addressed  to 

Mrs.  Howe,  Negro  Sympathizer, 

Boston. 

This  grieved  her,  but  she  did  not  cease  to  lift  up  her 
voice  against  the  evil  thing  whenever  occasion  offered. 

"July  7.  Oak  Glen.  .  .  .  My  son  and  his  wife  came 
over  from  Bristol  to  pass  the  day.  He  looks  as  young 
as  my  grandsons  do.  At  fifty,  his  hair  is  blond,  without 
gray,  and  his  forehead  unwrinkled." 

"  July  16.  .  .  .  While  in  church  I  had  a  new  thought 
of  the  energy  and  influence  of  Christ's  teaching.  'Ask 
and  ye  shall  receive,'  etc.    These  little  series  of  com- 


EIGHTY  YEARS  267 

mands  all  incite  the  hearers  to  action:  Ask,  seek, 
knock.  I  should  love  to  write  a  sermon  on  this,  but 
fear  my  sermonizing  days  are  over,  alas!" 

"August  7.  Determined  to  do  more  literary  work 
daily  than  I  have  been  doing  lately.  Began  a  screed 
about  dear  Bro'  Sam,  feeling  that  he  deserved  a  fuller 
mention  than  I  have  already  given  him.  ..." 

"September  J+.  Discouraged  over  the  confusion  of 
my  papers,  the  failure  of  printers  to  get  on  with  my 
book,  and  my  many  bills.  Have  almost  had  an  attack 
of  the  moral  sickness  which  the  Italians  call  Achidia. 
I  suppose  it  to  mean  indifference  and  indolence.  ..." 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  September  6,  1899. 
.  .  .  Here 's  a  question.  Houghton  and  Mifflin  desire 
to  print 1  the  rough  draft  of  my  "Battle  Hymn,"  which 
they  borrowed,  with  some  difficulty,  from  Charlotte 
Whipple,  who  begged  it  of  me,  years  ago.  I  hesitate  to 
allow  it,  because  it  contains  a  verse  which  I  discarded, 
as  not  up  to  the  rest  of  the  poem.  It  will  undoubtedly 
be  an  additional  attraction  for  the  volume.  .  .  . 

"  September  7.  Have  attacked  my  proofs  fiercely " 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  September  16,  1899. 
Yours   received,  tres  chere.    Why  not  consult  Hays 
Gardiner 2  about  printing   the  original  draft   of   the 

1  In  the  Reminiscences. 

2  The  late  John  Hays  Gardiner,  author  of   The  Bible  as  Literature, 
The  Forms  of  Prose  Literature,  and  Harvard. 


268  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"Hymn"?  Win's1  opinion  would  be  worth  having, 
also.  I  think  I  shall  consult  E.  E.  Hale,  albeit  the 
two  just  named  would  be  more  fastidious.2 

"October  21.  My  last  moments  in  this  dear  place. 
The  past  season  appears  to  me  like  a  gift  of  perfect 
jewels.  I  pray  that  the  winter  may  have  in  store  for 
me  some  good  work  and  much  dear  and  profitable 
companionship.  I  must  remember  that  this  may  be 
my  last  summer  here,  or  anywhere  on  earth,  but  must 
bear  in  mind  that  it  is  best  to  act  with  a  view  to  pro- 
longed life,  since  without  this  outlook,  it  is  very  hard 
for  us  to  endeavor  or  to  do  our  best.  Peace  be  with 
you,  beautiful  summer  and  autumn.  Amen." 

She  was  never  ready  to  leave  Oak  Glen;  the  town 
house  always  seemed  at  first  like  a  prison. 

"October  23.  Boston.  A  drizzly,  dark  day.  I  struggled 
out  twice,  saying  to  myself:    'It  is  for  your  life.'  .  .  ." 

"October  2k-  Have  had  two  days  of  chaos  and  dis- 
couragement. ..." 

"October  27.  A  delightful  and  encouraging  confer- 
ence of  A.AW.  held  in  my  parlors.  The  prevailing 
feeling  was  that  we  should  not  disband,  but  should 
hold  on  to  our  association  and  lie  by,  hoping  to  find 
new  innings  for  work.  Florida  was  spoken  of  as  good 
ground  for  us.  I  felt  much  cheered  and  quickened  by 
the  renewal  of  old  friendships.  ..." 

A  Western  lecture  trip  had  been  planned  for  this 

1  Edwin  Arlington  Robinson,  author  of  Captain  Craig,  etc. 

2  The  facsimile  printed  in  the  Reminiscences  contains  the  discarded 
stanza. 


EIGHTY  YEARS  269 

autumn,  but  certain  untoward  symptoms  developed 
and  Dr.  Wesseihoeft  said,  "No!  no!  not  even  if  you 
had  not  had  vertigo."  She  gave  it  up  most  reluctantly, 
confiding  only  to  the  Journal  the  hope  that  she  might 
be  able  to  go  later. 

"November  9.  Celebration  of  dear  Chev's  birthday 
at  the  Institution.  I  spoke  of  the  New  Testament 
word  about  the  mustard  seed,  so  small  but  producing 
such  a  stately  tree.  I  compared  this  little  seed  to  a 
benevolent  impulse  in  the  mind  of  S.  G.  H.  and  the 
Institution  to  a  tree.  '  What  is  smaller  than  a  human 
heart?  What  seems  weaker  than  a  good  intention? 
Yet  the  good  intention,  followed  by  the  faithful  heart, 
has  produced  this  great  refuge  in  which  many  genera- 
tions have  already  found  the  way  to  a  life  of  educated 
usefulness.'  ..." 

"November  19.  .  .  .  Before  the  sermon  I  had  prayed 
for  some  good  thought  of  God.  This  came  to  me  in  the 
shape  of  a  sudden  perception  to  this  effect:  'I  am  in 
the  Father's  house  already.'  .  .  ." 

"November  30.  ...  In  giving  thanks  to-day,  I  made 
my  only  personal  petitions,  which  were  first,  that 
some  of  my  dear  granddaughters  might  find  suitable 
husbands,  .  .  .  and  lastly,  that  I  might  serve  in  some 
way  until  the  last  breath  leaves  my  body.  ..." 

"December  16.  I  had  greatly  desired  to  see  the 
'Barber.'  Kind  Mrs.  [Alfred]  Batcheller  made  it  pos- 
sible by  inviting  me  to  go  with  her.  The  perform- 
ance was  almost  if  not  quite  bouffe.  Sembrich's  singing 
marvellous,  the  acting  of  the  other  characters  excellent, 
and  singing  very  good,  especially  that  of  De  Reszke 


270  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  Campanari.  I  heard  the  opera  in  New  York  more 
than  seventy  years  ago,  when  Malibran,  then  Signo- 
rina  Garcia,  took  the  part  of  Rosina." 

"December  31.  ...  'Advertiser'  man  came  with  a 
query:  'What  event  in  1899  will  have  the  greatest 
influence  in  the  world's  history?'  I  replied,  'The 
Czar's  Peace  Manifesto,  leading  to  the  Conference  at 
The  Hague.'  " 

November,  1899,  saw  the  birth  of  another  institu- 
tion from  which  she  was  to  derive  much  pleasure,  the 
Boston  Authors'  Club.  Miss  Helen  M.  Winslow  first 
evolved  the  idea  of  such  a  club.  After  talking  with 
Mmes.  May  Alden  Ward  and  Mabel  Loomis  Todd, 
who  urged  her  to  carry  out  the  project,  she  went  to 
see  the  "Queen  of  Clubs."  "Go  ahead!"  said  our 
mother.  "Call  some  people  together  here,  at  my 
house,  and  we  will  form  a  club,  and  it  will  be  a  good 
one  too." 

The  Journal  of  November  23  says :  — 

"Received  word  from  Helen  Winslow  of  a  meeting 
of  literary  folks  called  for  to-morrow  morning  at  my 
house." 

This  meeting  was  "very  pleasant:  Mrs.  Ward,  Miss 
Winslow,  Jacob  Strauss,  and  Hezekiah  Butterworth 
attended  —  later  Herbert  Ward  came  in." 

It  was  voted  to  form  the  Boston  Authors'  Club,  and 
at  a  second  meeting  in  December  the  club  was  duly 
organized. 

In  January  the  Authors'  Club  made  its  first  public 
appearance  in  a  meeting  and  dinner  at  Hotel  Vendome, 


EIGHTY  YEARS  271 

Mrs.  Howe  presiding,  Colonel  Higginson  (whom  she 
described  as  her  "chief  Vice")  beside  her. 

The  brilliant  and  successful  course  of  the  Authors' 
Club  need  not  be  dwelt  on  here.  Her  connection  with 
it  was  to  continue  through  life,  and  its  monthly 
meetings  and  annual  dinners  were  among  her  pet  pleas- 
ures. She  was  always  ready  to  "drop  into  rhyme" 
in  its  service,  the  Muse  in  cap  and  bells  being 
oftenest  invoked:  e.g.,  the  verses  written  for  the  five 
hundredth  anniversary  of  Chaucer's  death :  — 

Poet  Chaucer  had  a  sister, 
He,  the  wondrous  melodister. 
She  did  n't  write  no  poems,  oh,  no! 
Brother  Geoffrey  trained  her  so. 
Honored  by  the  poet's  crown, 
Her  posterity  came  down. 


Ages  of  ancestral  birth 
Went  for  all  that  they  were  worth. 
Hence  derives  the  Wentworth  name 
Which  heraldic  ranks  may  claim. 
That  same  herald  has  contrived   , 
How  the  Higginson  arrived. 

He  was  gran-ther  to  the  knight 
In  whose  honor  I  indite 
Burning  strophes  of  the  soul 
'propriate  to  the  flowing  bowl. 

Oft  the  worth  I  have  defended 
Of  the  Laureate-descended, 
But  while  here  he  sits  and  winks 
I  can  tell  you  what  he  thinks. 

"Never,  whether  old  or  young, 
Will  that  woman  hold  her  tongue! 
Fifty  years  in  Boston  schooled, 
Still  I  find  her  rhyme-befooled.  I 


272  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Oft  in  earnest,  oft  in  jest, 

We  have  met  and  tried  our  best. 

Nought  I  dread  an  open  field, 

I  can  conquer,  I  can  yield, 

Self  from  foes  I  can  defend, 

But  Heav'n  preserve  us  from  our  friend!" 

She  and  her  "chief  Vice"  were  always  making  merry 
together;  when  their  flint  and  steel  struck,  the  flash 
was  laughter.  It  may  have  been  at  the  Authors'  Club 
that  the  two,  with  Edward  Everett  Hale  and  Dr. 
Holmes,  were  receiving  compliments  and  tributes  one 
afternoon. 

"At  least,"  she  cried,  "no  one  can  say  that  Boston 
drops  its  H's!" 

This  was  in  the  winter  of  1900.  It  was  the  time 
of  the  Boer  War,  and  all  Christendom  was  sorrow- 
ing over  the  conflict.  On  January  3  the  Journal 
says :  — 

"This  morning  before  rising,  I  had  a  sudden  thought 
of  the  Christ-Babe  standing  between  the  two  armies, 
Boers  and  Britons,  on  Christmas  Day.  I  have  devoted 
the  morning  to  an  effort  to  overtake  the  heavenly 
vision  with  but  a  mediocre  result." 

These  lines  are  published  in  "At  Sunset." 

On  the  11th  the  cap  and  bells  are  assumed  once 
more. 

"...  To  reception  of  the  College  Club,  where  I  was 
to  preside  over  the  literary  exercises  and  to  introduce 
the  readers.  I  was  rather  at  a  loss  how  to  do  this,  but 
suddenly  I  thought  of  Mother  Goose's  'When  the  pie 
was  opened,  the  birds  began  to  sing.'  So  when  Edward 
Everett  Hale  came  forward  with  me  and  introduced  me 


EIGHTY  YEARS  273 

as  'the  youngest  person  in  the  hall,'  I  said,  'Ladies 
and  Gentlemen,  I  shall  prove  the  truth  of  what  our 
reverend  friend  has  just  said,  by  citing  a  quotation 
from  Mother  Goose  ['  When  the  pie  was  opened,'  etc.], 
and  the  first  bird  that  I  shall  introduce  will  be  Rev. 
E.  E.  Hale.'  Beginning  thus,  I  introduced  T.  W.  Hig- 
ginson  as  the  great  American  Eagle;  Judge  [Robert] 
Grant  as  a  mocking-bird;  C.  F.  Adams  as  the  trained 
German  canary  who  sings  all  the  songs  of  Yawcob 
Strauss;  C.  G.  Ames  said,  'You  mustn't  call  me  an 
owl.'  I  brought  him  forward  and  said,  'My  dear 
minister  says  that  I  must  not  call  him  an  owl,  and 
I  will  not;  only  the  owl  is  the  bird  of  wisdom  and  he 
is  very  wise.'  I  introduced  Mrs.  Moulton  as  a  night- 
ingale. For  Trowbridge  I  could  think  of  nothing  and 
said,  'This  bird  will  speak  for  himself.'  Introduced 
N.  H.  Dole  as  'a  bird  rarely  seen,  the  phoenix.'  At 
the  close  E.  E.  H.  said,  'You  have  an  admirable 
power  of  introducing.'  This  little  device  pleased  me 
foolishly." 

"February  h.  Wrote  a  careful  letter  to  W.  F.  Savage. 
He  had  written,  asking  an  explanation  of  some  old 
manuscript  copy  of  my  '  Battle  Hymn '  and  of  the  theft 
perpetrated  of  three  of  its  verses  in  'Pen  Pictures  of 
the  War,'  only  lately  brought  to  my  notice.  He  evi- 
dently thought  these  matters  implied  doubt  at  least 
of  my  having  composed  the  'Hymn.'  To  this  sus- 
picion I  did  not  allude,  but  showed  him  how  the 
verses  stolen  had  been  altered,  probably  to  avoid 
detection.  ..." 

"March  3.  Count  di  Campello's  lecture,  on  the  re- 


274  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ligious  life  in  Italy,  was  most  interesting.  His  uncle's 
movement  in  founding  a  National  Italian  Catholic 
Church  seemed  to  me  to  present  the  first  solution  I 
have  met  with,  of  the  absolute  opposition  between 
Catholic  and  Protestant.  A  Catholicism  without 
spiritual  tyranny,  without  ignorant  superstition, 
would  bridge  over  the  interval  between  the  two  oppo- 
sites  and  bring  about  the  unification  of  the  world- 
church.  ..." 

"March  13.  .  .  .  Passed  the  whole  morning  at  State 
House,  with  remonstrants  against  petition  forbidding 
Sunday  evening  concerts.  T.  W.  H.  spoke  remarkably 
well " 

"March  30.  ...  Had  a  special  good  moment  this 
morning  before  rising.  Felt  that  God  had  granted  me 
a  good  deal  of  heaven,  while  yet  on  earth.  So  the 
veil  lifts  sometimes,  not  for  long." 

April  found  her  in  Minneapolis  and  St.  Paul,  lectur- 
ing and  being  "delightfully  entertained." 

"May  8.  Minneapolis.  Spoke  at  the  University, 
which  I  found  delightfully  situated  and  richly  en- 
dowed. Was  received  with  great  distinction.  Spoke, 
I  think,  on  the  fact  that  it  takes  the  whole  of  life  to 
learn  the  lessons  of  life.  Dwelt  a  little  on  the  fact 
that  fools  are  not  necessarily  underwitted.  Nay,  may 
be  people  of  genius,  the  trouble  being  that  they  do 
not  learn  from  experience.  ..." 

On  leaving  she  exclaims :  — 

"Farewell,  dear  St.  Paul.  I  shall  never  forget  you, 
nor  this  delightful  visit,  which  has  renewed  (almost) 


EIGHTY  YEARS  275 

the  dreams  of  youth.  In  the  car  a  kind  old  grand- 
mother, with  two  fine  little  boy  grands.  .  .  . 

"The  dear  old  grandmother  and  her  boys  got  out 
at  the  Soo.  Other  ladies  in  the  Pullman  were  very 
kind  to  me,  especially  a  lady  from  St.  Paul,  with  her 
son,  who  I  thought  might  be  a  young  husband.  She 
laughed  much  at  this  when  I  mentioned  it  to  her. 
Had  an  argument  with  her,  regarding  hypnotism,  I 
insisting  that  it  is  demoralizing  when  used  by  a  strong 
will  to  subdue  a  weak  one.'* 

"May  25.  [Boston.]  Went  in  the  afternoon  to  Uni- 
tarian meeting  at  Tremont  Temple.  S.  A.  Eliot  made 
me  come  up  on  the  platform.  He  asked  if  I  would  give 
a  word  of  benediction.  I  did  so,  thanking  God  ear- 
nestly in  my  heart  for  granting  me  this  sweet  office, 
which  seemed  to  lift  my  soul  above  much  which  has 
disturbed  it  of  late.  Why  is  He  so  good  to  me?  Surely 
not  to  destroy  me  at  last." 

"June  3.  .  .  .  Before  church  had  a  thought  of  some 
sweet  spirit  asking  to  go  to  hell  to  preach  to  the  people 
there.  Thought  that  if  he  truly  fulfilled  his  office,  he 
would  not  leave  even  that  forlorn  pastorate.  ..." 

"June  10.  .  .  .  Could  not  find  the  key  to  my  money 
bag,  which  distressed  me  much.  Promised  St.  Anthony 
of  Padua  that  if  he  would  help  me,  I  would  take  pains 
to  find  out  who  he  was.  Found  the  key  immedi- 
ately  " 

"June  18.  .  .  .  The  little  lump  in  my  right  breast 
hurts  me  a  little  to-day.  Have  written  Wesselhoeft 
about  it.  4.50  p.m.  He  has  seen  it  and  says  that  it  is 
probably  cancerous;  forbids  me  to  think  of  an  opera- 


276  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

tion;  thinks  he  can  stop  it  with  medicine.  When  he 
told  me  that  it  was  in  all  probability  a  cancer,  I  felt  at 
first  much  unsettled  in  mind.  I  feared  that  the  thought 
of  it  would  occupy  my  mind  and  injure  my  health  by 
inducing  sleeplessness  and  nervous  excitement.  In- 
deed, I  had  some  sad  and  rather  vacant  hours,  but 
dinner  and  Julia's  *  company  put  my  dark  thought  to 
flight  and  I  lay  down  to  sleep  as  tranquilly  as  usual." 

[Whatever  this  trouble  was,  it  evidently  brought 
much  suffering,  but  finally  disappeared.  WTe  learn  of 
it  for  the  first  time  in  this  record;  she  never  spoke 
of  it  to  any  of  her  family.] 

"Oak  Glen.  June  21.  Here  I  am  seated  once  more 
at  my  old  table,  beginning  another  villeggiatura,  which 
may  easily  be  my  last.  Have  read  a  little  Greek  and 
a  long  article  in  the  'New  World.'  I  pray  the  dear 
Heavenly  Father  to  help  me  pass  a  profitable  season 
here,  improving  it  as  if  it  were  my  last,  whether  it 
turns  out  to  be  so  or  not." 

[She  was  not  in  her  usual  spirits  this  summer.  She 
felt  the  heat  and  the  burden  of  years.  The  Journal  is 
mostly  in  a  minor  key.] 

"July  16.  Took  up  a  poem  at  which  I  have  been 
working  for  some  days,  on  the  victims  in  Pekin;  a 
strange  theme,  but  one  on  which  I  feel  I  have  a  word 
to  say.   Wrote  it  all  over.  ..." 

"July  19.  Was  much  worn  out  with  the  heat.  In 
afternoon  my  head  gave  out  and  would  not  serve  me 
for  anything  but  to  sit  still  and  observe  the  flight  of 
birds  and  the  freaks  of  yellow  butterflies.  ..." 

1  Julia  Ward  Richards. 


MRS.    HOWE 
From  a  photograph  by  John  Elliott 


EIGHTY  YEARS  277 

"July  26.  Have  prayed  to-day  that  I  may  not  find 
life  dull.  This  prolongation  of  my  days  on  earth  is  so 
precious  that  I  ought  not  to  cease  for  one  moment  to 
thank  God  for  it.  I  enjoy  my  reading  as  much  as 
ever,  but  I  do  feel  very  much  the  narrowing  of  my 
personal  relations  by  death.  How  rich  was  I  in  sisters, 
brothers,  elders!  It  seems  to  me  now  as  if  I  had  not 
at  all  appreciated  these  treasures  of  affection.  ..." 

"July  31.  Have  writ  notes  of  condolence  to  Mrs. 
Barthold  Schlesinger  and  to  M.  E.  Powel.  I  remember 
the  coming  of  Mrs.  Powel's  family  to  Newport  sixty- 
five  years  ago.  The  elders  used  to  entertain  in  the 
simple  ways  of  those  days,  and  my  brother  Henry 
and  I  used  to  sing  one  duet  from  the  'Matrimonio 
Segreto,'  at  some  of  their  evening  parties.  In  the  after- 
noon came  the  ladies  of  the  Papeterie;  had  our  tea  in 
the  green  parlor,  which  was  pretty  and  pleasant.  ..." 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  August  3,  1900. 
...  I  grieve  for  the  death  of  King  Umberto,  as 
any  one  must  who  has  followed  the  fortunes  of  Italy 
and  knows  the  indebtedness  of  the  country  to  the 
House  of  Savoy.  Thus,  the  horror  of  this  anarchy, 
thriving  among  Italians  in  our  own  country.  I  am  so 
thankful  that  the  better  class  among  them  have  come 
out  so  strongly  against  it!  I  was  present  when  King 
Umberto  took  the  oaths  of  office,  after  the  death  of  his 
father.  He  was  a  faithful  man,  not  quite  up  to  the 
times,  perhaps,  but  his  reign  was  beset  with  problems 
and  difficulties.  I  am  sure  that  the  Queen  greatly  re- 


278  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

spected  and  honored  him,  although  I  believe  that  she 

was  first  betrothed  to  his  brother  Amadeo,  whom,  it 

is  said,  she  loved.  Alas,  for  the  tyranny  of  dynastic 

necessity.    Their  only   child  was  very  delicate,  and 

has  no  child,  or  had  not,  when  I  was  in  Rome.    As  to 

the  Chinese  horror,  it  is  unspeakably  dreadful.    Even 

if  the  ministers  are  safe,  hundreds  of  foreigners  and 

thousands    of  native   Christians    have  been  cruelly 

massacred.    I  cannot  help  hoping   that  punishment 

will  be  swift  and  severe.  .  .  . 

A  letter  from  H.  M.  H.  yesterday,  in  great  spirits. 

At  a  great  public  dinner  recently,  the  president  of  the 

association  cried:  "Honneur  a  Howe  I" 

Affect.,  _ , 

Mother. 

"August  17.  ...  In  the  evening  I  was  seized  with 
an  attack  of  verse  and  at  bedtime  wrote  a  rough  draft 
of  a  Te  Deum  for  the  rescue  of  the  ministers  in  Pekin." 

"August  20.  .  .  .  Got  my  poem  smooth  at  some 
expense  of  force,  perhaps.  I  like  the  poem.  I  think 
that  it  has  been  given  me." 

This  Te  Deum  was  printed  in  the  "Christian 
Herald"  in  September,  1900. 

"Sunday,  September  2.  ...  I  had,  before  service 
began,  a  clear  thought  that  self  is  death,  and  deliver- 
ance from  its  narrow  limitations  the  truest  emancipa- 
tion. In  my  heart  I  gave  thanks  to  God  for  all  measure 
in  which  I  have  attained,  or  tried  to  attain,  this  liber- 
ation. It  seems  to  me  that  the  one  moment  of  this 
which  we  could  perfectly  attain,  would  be  an  immortal 
joy." 


EIGHTY  YEARS  279 

A  week  later,  she  went  to  New  York  to  attend  a 
reception  given  to  the  Medal  of  Honor  Legion  at 
Brooklyn  Academy.  She  writes :  — 

"Last  evening's  occasion  was  to  me  eminently  worth 
the  trouble  I  had  taken  in  coming  on.  To  meet  these 
veterans,  face  to  face,  and  to  receive  their  hearty 
greeting,  was  a  precious  boon  vouchsafed  to  me  so 
late  in  life.  Their  reception  to  me  was  cordial  in  the 
extreme.  The  audience  and  chorus  gave  me  the  Chau- 
tauqua salute,  and  as  I  left  the  platform,  the  girl 
chorus  sang  the  last  verse  of  my  'Hymn'  over  again, 
in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  for  me  alone.  The  point  which 
I  made,  and  wished  to  make,  was  that,  'our  flag  should 
only  go  forth  on  errands  of  justice,  mercy,  etc.,  and 
that  once  sent  forth,  it  should  not  be  recalled  until 
the  work  whereunto  it  had  been  pledged  was  accom- 
plished.' This  with  a  view  to  Pekin.  ..." 

"September  13. . . .  The  Galveston  horror l  was  much 
in  my  mind  yesterday.  I  could  not  help  asking  why 
the  dear  Lord  allowed  such  dreadful  loss  of  life.  ..." 

"October  25.  My  last  writing  at  this  time  in  this 
dear  place.  The  season,  a  very  busy  one,  has  also  been 
a  very  blessed  one.  I  cannot  be  thankful  enough  for 
so  much  calm  delight  —  my  children  and  grand- 
children, my  books  and  my  work,  although  this  last 
has  caused  me  many  anxieties.  I  cannot  but  feel  as 
old  John  Forbes  did  when  he  left  Naushon  for  the  last 
time  and  went  about  in  his  blindness,  touching  his 
writing  materials,  etc.,  and  saying  to  himself,  'Never 
again,  perhaps.'   If  it  should  turn  out  so  in  my  case, 

1  A  terrible  storm  and  tidal  wave  which  had  nearly  destroyed  the  city. 


280  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

God's  will  be  done.   He  knows  best  when  we  should 

depart  and  how  long  we  should  stay.  .  .  ." 

"On  the  way  home  and  afterwards,  these  lines  of 

an  old  hymn  ran  in  my  mind :  — 

"  'Fear  not,  I  am  with  thee,  oh,  be  not  afraid. 
I,  I  am  thy  God,  and  will  still  give  thee  aid.' 

This  comforted  me  much  in  the  forlorn  exchange  of 
my  lovely  surroundings  at  Oak  Glen  for  the  imprison- 
ment of  a  town  house." 

"November  4-  %-kl  Beacon  Street.  The  dear  minister 
preached  on  'All  Saints  and  All  Souls,'  the  double 
festival  of  last  week.  At  Communion  he  said:  'Dear 
Sister  Howe,  remember  that  if  you  are  moved  to  speak, 
you  have  freedom  to  do  so.'  I  had  not  thought  of 
speaking,  but  presently  rose  and  spoke  of  the  two 
consecrated  days.  I  said:  'As  I  entered  this  church  to- 
day, I  thought  of  a  beautiful  cathedral  in  which  one 
after  another  the  saints  whom  I  have  known  and 
loved,  appeared  on  either  side;  first,  the  saints  of  my 
own  happy  childhood,  then  the  excellent  people  whom 
I  have  known  all  my  life  long.  The  picture  of  one  of 
them  hangs  on  these  walls.1  His  memory  is  fresh  in 
all  our  hearts.  Surely  it  is  a  divine  glory  which  we 
have  seen  in  the  faces  of  these  friends,  and  they  seem 
to  lead  us  up  to  that  dearest  and  divinest  one,  whom 
we  call  Master';  and  so  on.  I  record  this  to  preserve 
this  vision  of  the  cathedral  of  heart  saints.  .  .  ." 

"December  25.  I  was  awake  soon  after  five  this 
morning,  and  a  voice,  felt,  not  heard,  seemed  to  give 
me  a  friendly  warning  to  set  my  house  in  order  for 

1  James  Freeman  Clarke. 


EIGHTY  YEARS  281 

my  last  departure  from  it.  This  seems  to  bring  in 
view  my  age,  already  long  past  the  scriptural  limit, 
suggesting  also  that  I  have  some  symptoms  of  an 
ailment  which  does  not  trouble  me  much,  but  which 
would  naturally  tend  to  shorten  my  life.  In  my  mind 
I  promised  that  I  would  heed  the  warning  given.  I 
only  prayed  God  to  make  the  parting  easy  for  me 
and  my  dear  ones,  of  whom  dear  Maud  would  be  the 
most  to  be  pitied,  as  she  has  been  most  with  me  and 
has  no  child  to  draw  her  thoughts  to  the  future.  After 
this,  I  fell  asleep. 

"We  had  a  merry  time  at  breakfast,  examining  the 
Christmas  gifts,  which  were  numerous  and  gratify- 
ing.  .  .  ." 

"December  31.  .  .  .  Here  ends  a  year  of  mercies,  of 
more  than  my  usual  health,  of  power  to  speak  and  to 
write.  It  has  been  a  year  of  work.  God  be  thanked 
for  it." 


CHAPTER  XII 

STEPPING  WESTWARD 

1901-1902;  aet.  82-83 

But  here  the  device  of  the  spiral  can  save  us.  We  must  make  the  round, 
but  we  may  make  it  with  an  upward  inclination.  "Let  there  be  light!"  is 
sometimes  said  in  accents  so  emphatic,  that  the  universe  remembers  and 
cannot  forget  it.  We  carry  our  problems  slowly  forward.  With  all  the  ups 
and  downs  of  every  age,  humanity  constantly  rises.  Individuals  may  pre- 
serve all  its  early  delusions,  commit  all  its  primitive  crimes;  but  to  the 
body  of  civilized  mankind,  the  return  to  barbarism  is  impossible. 

J.  W.  H. 

"January  7.  I  have  had  a  morning  of  visioning, 
lying  in  bed.  'Be  still  and  know  that  I  am  God,' 
seemed  to  be  my  sentence.  I  thought  of  the  Magda- 
len's box  of  spikenard,  whose  odor,  when  the  box  was 
broken,  filled  the  house.  The  separate  religious  con- 
victions of  the  sects  seemed  to  me  like  so  many  boxes 
of  ointment,  exceedingly  precious  while  shut  up,  but  I 
thought  also  that  the  dear  Lord  would  one  day  break 
these  separate  boxes,  and  that  then  their  fragrance 
would  fill  the  whole  earth,  which  is  His  house. 

"This  is  my  first  writing  in  this  book.  From  this 
thought  and  the  'Be  still,'  I  may  try  to  make  two 
sermons. 

"In  afternoon  came  William  Wesselhoeft,  Sr.,  and 
prescribed  entire  quiet  and  rest  for  some  days  to  come. 
Oh!  I  do  long  to  be  at  work." 

"January  9.  To-day  for  the  first  time  since  January 
3, 1  have  opened  a  Greek  book.  I  read  in  my  iEschylus 
["Eumenides"]  how  Apollo  orders  the  Furies  to  leave 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  283 

his  shrine,  to  go  where  deeds  of  barbarity,  tortures,  and 
mutilations  are  practised." 

At  this  time  she  heard  of  her  son's  receiving  from 
the  Czar  the  cross  of  the  Order  of  St.  Stanislas.  She 
writes  to  him: —  j 

"Goodness  gracious  me! 

"  Are  you  sure  it  is  n't  by  mistake?  Do  you  re- 
member that  you  are  my  naughty  little  imp?  .  .  . 
WTell,  well,  it  takes  away  my  breath!  Dearest  Boy, 
my  heart  is  lifted  up  with  gratitude.  If  your  father 
were  only  here,  to  share  our  great  rejoicing!  Joy! 
joy!..." 

She  had  always  taken  a  deep  interest  in  Queen 
Victoria,  whose  age  was  within  three  days  of  her  own. 
Many  people  fancied  a  resemblance  between  the  two; 
indeed,  when  in  England  as  a  bride,  she  was  told 
more  than  once:  "  You  look  like  our  young  Queen!" 
It  is  remembered  how  one  of  her  daughters,  knocking 
at  the  door  of  a  Maine  farmhouse  to  inquire  the  way, 
was  met  by  a  smiling,  "I  know  who  you  are!  You  are 
the  daughter  of  the  Queen  of  America!" 

The  Queen's  death,  coming  as  it  did  during  her  own 
illness,  gave  her  a  painful  shock. 

"January  23.  The  news  of  Queen  Victoria's  death 
quite  overcame  me  for  a  moment  this  morning.  In- 
stead of  settling  to  my  work,  I  wrote  a  very  tiny  '  bust 
of  feeling'  about  her,  which  I  carried  to  the  'Woman's 
Journal'  office,  where  I  found  a  suffrage  meeting  in 
progress.  I  could  only  show  myself  and  say  that  I 
was  not  well  enough  to  remain.  ..." 

"  Bust  of  feeling  "  was  a  favorite  expression  of  hers. 


284  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

Old  Bostonians  will  recall  its  origin.  "  A  certain  rich 
man,"  seeing  a  poor  girl  injured  in  a  street  accident, 
offered  to  pay  her  doctor's  bill.  This  being  presented 
in  due  time,  he  disclaimed  all  responsibility  in  the 
affair;  and  when  reminded  of  his  offer,  exclaimed, 
"Oh,  that  was  a  bust  of  feeling!" 

On  January  31,  she  was  "in  distress  of  mind  all  day 
lest  Maud  should  absolutely  refuse  to  let  me  give  my 
lecture  at  Phillips  Church  this  evening."  Later  she 
writes:  "Maud  was  very  kind  and  did  nothing  to 
hinder  my  going  to  South  Boston."  She  went  and 
enjoyed  the  evening,  but  was  not  so  well  after  it. 

"February  10.  A  Sunday  at  home;  unable  to  venture 
out.  Wesselhoeft,  Jr.,  called,  left  medicine,  and  for- 
bade my  going  out  before  the  cough  has  ceased.  Have 
read  in  Cheyne's  'Jewish  Religious  Life  after  the 
Exile,'  finding  the  places  of  reference  in  the  Bible. 
Afterwards  read  in  'L'Aiglon,'  which  is  very  interest- 
ing but  not  praiseworthy,  as  it  endeavors  to  recall  the 
false  glory  of  Napoleon." 

"February  18.  Have  been  out,  first  time  since  Feb- 
ruary 3,  when  I  went  to  church  and  was  physically  the 
worse  for  it.  .  .  .  Last  night  had  a  time  of  lying  awake 
with  a  sort  of  calm  comfort.  Woke  in  the  morning 
full  of  invalid  melancholy,  intending  to  keep  my  bed. 
Felt  much  better  when  in  motion.  Must  make  a  vigor- 
ous effort  now  to  get  entirely  well." 

These  days  of  seclusion  were  hard  for  her,  and  every 
effort  was  made  to  bring  the  "  mountains  "  to  her, 
since  she  could  not  go  to  them. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  285 

A  club  was  formed  among  her  friends  in  Boston  for 
the  study  and  speaking  of  Italian :  this  became  one  of 
her  great  pleasures,  and  she  looked  forward  eagerly  to 
the  meetings,  delighted  to  hear  and  to  use  the  beauti- 
ful speech  she  had  loved  since  childhood. 

"February  22.  The  new  club,  //  Circolo  Italiano,  met 
at  our  house.  Count  Campello  had  asked  me  to  say 
a  few  words,  so  I  prepared  a  very  little  screed  in  Ital- 
ian, not  daring  to  trust  myself  to  speak  extempore  in 
this  language.  We  had  a  large  attendance;  I  thought 
one  hundred  were  present.  My  bit  was  well  received, 
and  the  lecture  by  Professor  Speranza,  of  New  York, 
was  very'interesting,  though  rather  difficult  to  follow. 
The  theme  was  D'Annunzio's  dramas,  from  which  he 
gave  some  quotations  and  many  characterizations. 
He  relegates  D'Annunzio  to  the  Renaissance  when 
Virtu  had  no  real  moral  significance.  Compared  him 
with  Ibsen.    The  occasion  was  exceedingly  pleasant. '\ 

To  Laura 

I  had  hoped  to  go  to  church  to-day,  but  my  Maud 
and  your  Julia  decided  against  it,  and  so  I  am  having 
the  day  at  home.  It  is  just  noon  by  my  dial,  and  Maud 
is  stretched  in  my  Gardiner  chair,  comfortably  shawled, 
and  reading  Lombroso's  book  on  "The  Man  of  Genius," 
with  steadfast  attention.  Lombroso's  theory  seems  to 
be  that  genius,  almost  equally  with  insanity,  is  a  result 
of  degeneration.  .  .  . 

"March  1.  The  first  day  of  spring,  though  in  this 
climate  this  is  a  wintry  month.  I  am  thankful  to  have 


286  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

got  on  so  far  in  this,  my  eighty-second  year.  My 
greatest  trouble  is  that  I  use  so  poorly  the  precious 
time  spared  to  me.  Latterly  I  have  been  saying  to  my- 
self, 'Can  you  not  see  that  the  drama  is  played  out?' 
This  partly  because  my  children  wish  me  to  give  up 
public  speaking." 

"March  k-  •  •  •  To  New  England  Woman's  Club; 
first  time  this  year,  to  my  great  regret  and  loss.  I  was 
cordially  welcomed.  ...  A  thought  suddenly  came  to 
me,  namely,  that  the  liberal  education  of  women 
would  give  the  death-blow  to  superstition.  I  said,  'We 
women  have  been  the  depositaries  of  religious  sensi- 
bility, but  we  have  also  furnished  the  impregnable 
storehouse  of  superstition,  sometimes  gracious,  some- 
times desperately  cruel  and  hurtful  to  our  race.'  No 
one  noticed  this,  but  I  hold  fast  to  it.  .  .  ." 

"March  8.  ...  To  Symphony  Concert  in  afternoon, 
which  I  enjoyed  but  little,  the  music  being  of  the 
multi-muddle  order  so  much  in  vogue  just  now.  An 
air  of  Haydn's  sounded  like  a  sentence  of  revelation 
in  a  chatter.  .  .  ." 

It  may  have  been  after  this  concert  that  she  wrote 
these  lines,  found  in  one  of  her  notebooks :  — 

Such  ugly  noises  never  in  my  life 
My  ears  endured,  such  hideous  fiddle-strife. 
A  dozen  street  bands  playing  different  tunes, 
A  choir  of  chimney  sweeps  with  various  runes, 
The  horn  that  doth  to  farmer's  dinner  call, 
The  Chinese  gong  that  serves  in  wealthier  hall, 
The  hammer,  scrub  brush,  and  beseeching  broom, 
AYhile  here  and  there  the  guns  of  freedom  boom, 
"Tzing!  bang!  this  soul  is  saved!"   "Clang!  clang!  it  is  n't!" 
And  mich  and  dich  and  ich  and  sick  and  sisrit ! 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  287 

Five  dollar  bills  the  nauseous  treat  secured, 
But  what  can  pay  the  public  that  endured? 

"March  17.  Before  lying  down  for  a  needed  rest,  I 
must  record  the  wonderful  reception  given  to-day  to 
Jack  Elliott's  ceiling.1  The  day  was  fine,  clear  sun- 
light. Many  friends  congratulated  me,  and  some 
strangers.  Vinton,  the  artist,  Annie  Blake,  Ellen 
Dixey  were  enthusiastic  in  their  commendation  of 
the  work,  as  were  many  others.  I  saw  my  old  friend, 
Lizzie  Agassiz,  my  cousin  Mary  Robeson  and  her 
daughter,  and  others  too  numerous  to  mention.  .  .  . 
This  I  consider  a  day  of  great  honor  for  my  family. 
.  .  .  Deo  gratias  for  this  as  well  as  for  my  son's 
decoration." 

"March  31.  .  .  .  Had  a  sort  of  vision  in  church  of 
Moses  and  Christ,  the  mighty  breath  of  the  prophets 
reaching  over  many  and  dark  ages  to  our  own  time,  with 
power  growing  instead  of  diminishing.  When  I  say 
a  vision,  I  mean  a  vivid  thought  and  mind  picture." 

"April  3.  Have  writ  to  Larz  Anderson,  telling  him 
where  to  find  the  quotation  from  Horace  which  I  gave 
him  for  a  motto  to  his  automobile,  'Ocior  Euro.' 
Sanborn  found  it  for  me  and  sent  it  by  postal.  It 
must  have  been  more  than  thirty  years  since  dear 
Brother  Sam  showed  it  to  me.  .  .  ." 

"April  7.  A  really  inspired  sermon  from  C.  G.  A., 
'The  power  of  an  unending  life.'  .  .  .  The  Communion 
which  followed  was  to  me  almost  miraculous.  Mr. 
Ames  called  it  a  festival  of  commemoration,  and  it 
brought  me  a  mind  vision  of  the  many  departed  dear 

1  The  Triumph  of  Time,  at  the  Public  Library. 


288  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ones.  One  after  another  the  dear  forms  seemed  to 
paint  themselves  on  my  inner  vision :  first,  the  nearer 
in  point  of  time,  last  my  brother  Henry  and  Samuel 
Eliot.  I  felt  that  this  experience  ought  to  pledge  me 
to  new  and  more  active  efforts  to  help  others.  In  my 
mind  I  said,  the  obstacle  to  this  is  my  natural  inertia, 
my  indolence;  then  the  thought,  God  can  overcome 
this  indolence  and  give  me  increased  power  of  service 
and  zeal  for  it.  Those  present,  I  think,  all  considered 
the  sermon  and  Communion  as  of  special  power  and 
interest.  It  almost  made  me  fear  lest  it  should  prove 
a  swan  song  from  the  dear  minister.  Perhaps  it  is  I, 
not  he,  who  may  soon  depart." 

Later  in  April  she  was  able  to  fulfil  some  lecture 
engagements  in  New  York  State  with  much  enjoy- 
ment, but  also  much  fatigue.  After  her  return  she 
felt  for  a  little  while  "as  if  it  was  about  time  for  her 
to  go,"  but  her  mind  soon  recovered  its  tone. 

Being  gently  reproved  for  giving  a  lecture  and 
holding  a  reception  on  the  same  day,  she  said,  "That 
is  perfectly  proper:  I  gave  and  I  received:  I  was 
scriptural  and  I  was  blessed." 

Asked  on  another  occasion  if  it  did  not  tire  her  to 
lecture,  —  "  Why,  no!  it  is  they  [the  audience]  who 
are  tired,  not  I!" 

On  April  27  she  writes :  — 

"I  have  had  a  great  gratification  to-day.  Mrs.  Fiske 
Warren  had  invited  us  to  afternoon  tea  and  to  hear 
Coquelin  deliver  some  monologues.  I  bethought  me 
of  my  poem  entitled  'After  Hearing  Coquelin.'  Maud 
wrote  to  ask  Mrs.  Warren  whether  she  would  like  to 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  289 

have  me  read  it  and  she  assented.  I  procured  a  fresh 
copy  of  the  volume  in  which  it  is  published,  and  took 
it  with  me  to  this  party,  which  was  large  and  very  rep- 
resentative of  Boston's  most  recognized  people.  Miss 
Shedlock  first  made  a  charming  recitation  in  French, 
which  she  speaks  perfectly.  Then  Coquelin  gave  three 
delightful  monologues.  The  company  then  broke  up 
for  tea  and  I  thought  my  chance  was  lost,  but  after  a 
while  order  was  restored.  M.  Coquelin  was  placed 
where  I  could  see  him,  and  I  read  the  poem  as  well  as 
I  could.  He  seemed  much  touched  with  the  homage, 
and  I  gave  him  the  book.  People  in  general  were 
pleased  with  the  poem  and  I  was  very  glad  and  thank- 
ful for  so  pleasant  an  experience.  Learned  with  joy 
of  the  birth  of  a  son  to  my  dear  niece,  Elizabeth 
Chapman." 

Another  happy  birthday  came  and  passed.   After 
recording  its  friendly  festivities,  she  writes :  — 

"I  am  very  grateful  for  all  this  loving  kindness. 
Solemn  thoughts  must  come  to  me  of  the  long  past 
and  of  the  dim,  uncertain  future.  I  trust  God  for  His 
grace.  My  life  has  been  poor  in  merit,  in  comparison 
to  what  it  should  have  been,  but  I  am  thankful  that 
to  some  it  has  brought  comfort  and  encouragement, 
and  that  I  have  been  permitted  to  champion  some 
good  causes  and  to  see  a  goodly  number  of  my  de- 
scendants, all  well  endowed  physically  and  mentally, 
and  starting  in  life  with  good  principles  and  inten- 
tions; my  children  all  esteemed  and  honored  for  hon- 
orable service  in  their  day  and  generation." 
-    "May  30.    Decoration  Day.  ...  In  the  afternoon 


290  JULIA   WARD  HOWE 

Maud  and  I  drove  out  to  Mount  Auburn  to  visit  the 
dear  graves.  We  took  with  us  the  best  of  the  birthday 
flowers,  beautiful  roses  and  lilies.  I  could  not  have 
much  sense  of  the  presence  of  our  dear  ones.  Indeed, 
they  are  not  there,  but  where  they  are,  God  only 
knows." 

"May  31.  Free  Religious  meeting.  .  .  .  The  fears 
which  the  bold  programme  had  naturally  aroused  in 
me,  fears  lest  the  dear  Christ  should  be  spoken  of  in 
a  manner  to  wound  those  who  love  him  —  these  fears 
were  at  once  dissipated  by  the  reverent  tone  of  the 
several  speakers.  .  .  ." 

"June  1.  ...  To  the  Free  Religious  festival.  ...  I 
found  something  to  say  about  the  beautiful  morning 
meeting  and  specially  of  the  truth  which  comes  down 
to  us,  mixed  with  so  much  rubbish  of  tradition.  I  spoke 
of  the  power  of  truth  'which  burns  all  this  accumula- 
tion of  superstition  and  shines  out  firm  and  clear,  so 
we  may  say  that  "the  myth  crumbles  but  the  majesty 
remains."  *  .  . ." 

She  managed  to  do  a  good  deal  of  writing  this 
summer:  wrote  a  number  of  "screeds,"  some  to  order, 
some  from  inward  leading:  e.g.,  a  paper  on  "Girlhood 
Seventy  Years  Ago,"  a  poem  on  the  death  of  President 
McKinley. 

"October  5.  A  package  came  to-day  from  McClure's 
Syndicate.  I  thought  it  was  my  manuscript  returned 
and  rejected,  and  said,  'God  give  me  strength  not  to 
cry.'  I  opened  it  and  found  a  typewritten  copy  of  my 
paper  on  'Girlhood,'  sent  to  me  for  correction  in  lieu 
of  printer's  proof.  Wrote  a  little  on  my  screed  about 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  291 

'Anarchy.'  Had  a  sudden  thought  that  the  sense 
and  spirit  of  government  is  responsibility." 

"October  6.  .  .  .  Wrote  a  poem  on  'The  Dead  Cen- 
tury,' which  has  in  it  some  good  lines,  I  hope." 

"October  8.  The  cook  ill  with  rheumatism.  I  made 
my  bed,  turning  the  mattress,  and  put  my  room  gen- 
erally to  rights.  When  I  lay  down  to  take  my  usual 
obligate  rest,  a  fit  of  verse  came  upon  me,  and  I  had  to 
abbreviate  my  lie-down  to  write  out  my  inspiration." 

The  "obligate  rest"!  How  she  did  detest  it!  She 
recognized  the  necessity  of  relaxing  the  tired  nerves 
and  muscles;  she  yielded,  but  never  willingly.  The 
noon  hour  would  find  her  bending  over  her  desk,  writ- 
ing "for  dear  life,"  or  plunged  fathoms  deep  in  Grote's 
"Greece,"  or  some  other  light  and  playful  work. 
Daughter  or  granddaughter  would  appear,  watch  in 
hand,  countenance  steeled  against  persuasion.  "Time 
for  your  rest,  dearest!" 

The  rapt  face  looks  up,  breaks  into  sunshine,  melts 
into  entreaty.  "Let  me  finish  this  note,  this  page; 
then  I  will  go!"  Or  it  may  be  the  sprite  that  looks  out 
of  the  gray  eyes.  "Get  out!"  she  says.  "Leave  the 
room!  I  never  saw  you  before!" 

Finally  she  submits  to  the  indignity  of  being  tucked 
in  for  her  nap;  but  even  then  her  watch  is  beside  her 
on  the  bed,  ticking  away  the  minutes  till  the  half- 
hour  is  over,  and  she  springs  to  her  task. 

"November  3.  21^1  Beacon  Street.  My  room  here  has 
been  nicely  cleaned,  but  I  bring  into  it  a  great  heap  of 
books  and  papers.  I  am  going  to  try  hard  to  be  less 
disorderly  than  in  the  past." 


292  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

How  hard  she  did  try,  we  well  remember.  The  book 
trunk  was  a  necessity  of  the  summer  flitting.  It  car- 
ried a  full  load  from  one  book-ridden  house  to  the 
other,  and  there  were  certain  books  —  the  four- volume 
Oxford  Bible,  the  big-print  Horace,  the  Greek  clas- 
sics, shabby  of  dress,  splendid  of  type  and  margin 
—  which  could  surely  have  found  their  way  to  and 
from  Newport  unaided. 

One  book  she  never  asked  for  —  the  English  dic- 
tionary !  Once  Maud,  recently  returned  from  Europe, 
apologized  for  having  inadvertently  taken  the  dic- 
tionary from  241  Beacon  Street. 

"How  dreadful  it  was  of  me  to  take  your  dictionary! 
What  have  you  done?  Did  you  buy  a  new  one?" 

"I  did  not  know  you  had  taken  it!" 

"But  —  how  did  you  get  along  without  a  dic- 
tionary?" 

The  elder  looked  her  surprise. 

"  I  never  use  a  word  whose  meaning  I  do  not  know ! " 

"But  the  spelling?" 

There  was  no  answer  to  this,  save  a  whimsical  shrug 
of  the  shoulders. 

"November  11.  The  day  of  the  celebration  of  dear 
Chev's  one  hundredth  birthday.  Before  starting  for 
the  Temple  I  received  three  beautiful  gifts  of  flowers, 
a  great  bunch  of  white  roses  from  Lizzie  Agassiz,  a 
lovely  bouquet  of  violets  from  Mrs.  Frank  Batcheller, 
and  some  superb  chrysanthemums  from  Mrs.  George 
H.  Perkins.  The  occasion  was  to  me  one  of  solemn  joy 
and  thankfulness.  Senator  Hoar  presided  with  beauti- 
ful grace,  preluding  with  some  lovely  reminiscences  of 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  293 

Dr.  Howe's  visit  to  his  office  in  Worcester,  Massachu- 
setts, when  he,  Hoar,  was  a  young  lawyer.  Sanborn 
and  Manatt  excelled  themselves,  Humphreys  did  very 
well.  Hoar  requested  me  to  stand  up  and  say  a  few 
words,  which  I  did,  he  introducing  me  in  a  very  felici- 
tous manner.  I  was  glad  to  say  my  word,  for  my  heart 
was  deeply  touched.  With  me  on  the  platform  were 
my  dear  children  and  Jack  Hall  and  Julia  Richards; 
Anagnos,  of  course;  the  music  very  good." 

Senator  Hoar's  words  come  back  to  us  to-day,  and 
we  see  his  radiant  smile  as  he  led  her  forward. 

"It  is  only  the  older  ones  among  us,"  he  said,  "who 
have  seen  Dr.  Howe,  but  there  are  hundreds  here  who 
will  want  to  tell  their  children  that  they  have  seen 
the  author  of  the  '  Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic' ' 

Part  of  her  "word"  was  as  follows:  — 

"We  have  listened  to-day  to  very  heroic  memories; 
it  almost  took  away  our  breath  to  think  that  such 
things  were  done  in  the  last  century.  I  feel  very  grate- 
ful to  the  pupils  and  graduates  of  the  Perkins  Institu- 
tion for  the  Blind  who  have  planned  this  service  in 
honor  of  my  husband.  It  is  a  story  that  should  be 
told  from  age  to  age  to  show  what  one  good  resolute 
believer  in  humanity  was  able  to  accomplish  for  the 
benefit  of  his  race.  .  .  .  The  path  by  which  he  led 
Laura  Bridgman  to  the  light  has  become  one  of  the 
highways  of  education,  and  a  number  of  children  simi- 
larly afflicted  are  following  it,  to  their  endless  enlarge- 
ment and  comfort.  What  an  encouragement  does  this 
story  give  to  the  undertaking  of  good  deeds! 

"I  thank  those  who  are  with  us  to-day  for  their 


294  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

sympathy  and  attention.  I  do  this,  not  in  the  name 
of  a  handful  of  dust,  dear  and  reverend  as  it  is,  that 
now  rests  in  Mount  Auburn,  but  in  the  name  of  a 
great  heart  which  is  with  us  to-day  and  which  will 
still  abide  with  those  who  work  in  its  spirit." 

"November  26.  Thursday.  A  day  of  pleasant  agita- 
tion from  beginning  to  end.  I  tried  to  recognize  in 
thought  the  many  mercies  of  the  year.  My  fortunate 
recoveries  from  illness,  the  great  pleasures  of  study, 
friendly  intercourse,  thought  and  life  generally.  Our 
Thanksgiving  dinner  was  at  about  1.30  p.m.,  and  was 
embellished  by  the  traditional  turkey,  a  fine  one,  to 
which  David,  Flossy,  Maud,  and  I  did  justice.  The 
Richards  girls,  Julia  and  Betty,  and  Chug *  and  Jack 
Hall,  flitted  in  and  out,  full  of  preparation  for  the 
evening  event,  the  marriage  of  my  dear  Harry  Hall  to 
Alice  Haskell.  I  found  time  to  go  over  my  screed  for 
Maynard  very  carefully,  rewriting  a  little  of  it  and 
mailing  it  in  the  afternoon. 

"  In  the  late  afternoon  came  Harry  Hall  and  his  best 
man,  Tom  McCready,  to  dine  here  and  dress  for  the 
ceremony.  Maud  improvised  a  pleasant  supper:  we 
were  eight  at  table.  Went  to  the  church  in  two  car- 
riages. Bride  looked  very  pretty,  simple  white  satin 
dress  and  tulle  veil.  Six  bridesmaids  in  pink,  carrying 
white  chrysanthemums.  H.  M.  H.2  seemed  very  boy- 
ish, but  looked  charmingly.  .  .  ." 

"December  31.  The  last  day  of  a  blessed  year  in 
which  I  have  experienced  some  physical  suffering,  but 

1  Dr.  Lawrence  J.  Henderson. 

2  The  bridegroom,  Henry  Marion  Hall. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  295 

also  many  comforts  and  satisfactions.  I  have  had 
grippe  and  bronchitis  in  the  winter  and  bad  malarial 
jaundice  in  the  summer,  but  I  have  been  constantly 
employed  in  writing  on  themes  of  great  interest  and 
have  had  much  of  the  society  of  children  and  grand- 
children. Of  these  last,  two  are  happily  married,  i.e., 
in  great  affection.  My  dear  Maud  and  her  husband 
have  been  with  me  constantly,  and  I  have  had  little 
or  no  sense  of  loneliness.  .  .  ." 

The  beginning  of  1902  found  her  in  better  health 
than  the  previous  year. 

She  records  a  luncheon  with  a  distinguished  com- 
pany, at  which  all  agreed  that  "the  'Atlantic'  to-day 
would  not  accept  Milton's  'L'  Allegro,'  nor  would  any 
other  magazine." 

At  the  Symphony  Concert  "the  Tschaikowsky 
Symphony  seemed  to  me  to  have  in  it  more  noise  than 
music.   Felt  that  I  am  too  old  to  enjoy  new  music." 

"January  £|.  Suffrage  and  Anti-Suffrage  at  the 
State  House.  I  went  there  with  all  of  my  old  interest 
in  the  Cause.  The  Antis  were  there  in  force:  Mrs. 
Charles  Guild  as  their  leader;  Lawyer  Russell  as  their 
manager.  I  had  to  open.  I  felt  so  warm  in  my  faith 
that  for  once  I  thought  I  might  convert  our  opponents. 
I  said  much  less  than  I  had  intended,  as  is  usually  the 
case  with  me  when  I  speak  extempore." 

"February  7.  ...  I  went  to  see  Leoni's  wonderful 
illuminated  representation  of  leading  events  in  our 
history;  a  very  remarkable  work,  and  one  which  ought 
to  remain  in  this  country." 


296  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"February  11.  Dreamed  of  an  interview  with  a 
female  pope.  I  had  to  go  to  Alliance  Meeting  to 
speak  about  Wordsworth.  I  hunted  up  some  verses 
written  about  him  in  my  early  enthusiasm,  probably 
in  1840  or  1841.  This  I  read  and  then  told  of  my  visit 
to  him  with  Dr.  Howe  and  the  unpleasantness  of  the 
experience.  Spoke  also  of  the  reaction  in  England 
against  the  morbid  discontent  which  is  so  prominent 
and  powerful  in  much  of  Byron's  poetry.  ..." 

"February  12.  ...  In  my  dream  of  yesterday  morn- 
ing the  woman  pope  and  I  were  on  very  friendly  terms. 
I  asked  on  leaving  whether  I  might  kiss  her  hand. 
She  said,  'You  may  kiss  my  hand.'  I  found  it  fat  and 
far  from  beautiful.  As  I  left  her,  methought  that  her 
countenance  relaxed  and  she  looked  like  a  tired  old 
woman.  In  my  dream  I  thought,  'How  like  this  is  to 
what  Pope  Leo  would  do.'" 

"February  13.  .  .  .  Felt  greatly  discouraged  at  first 
waking.  It  seemed  impossible  for  me  to  make  a  first 
move  under  so  many  responsibilities.  A  sudden  light 
came  into  my  soul  at  the  thought  that  God  will  help 
me  in  any  good  undertaking,  and  with  this  there  came 
an  inkling  of  first  steps  to  be  taken  with  regard  to 
Sig.  Leoni's  parchment.1  I  went  to  work  again  on  my 
prize  poem,  with  better  success  than  hitherto.  .  .  ." 

"February  llf,.  Philosophy  at  Mrs.  Bullard's. . . .  Sent 
off  my  prize  poem  with  scarcely  any  hope  of  its  obtain- 
ing or  indeed  deserving  the  prize,  but  Mar 2  has  promised 
to  pay  me  something  for  it  in  any  case,  and  I  was  bound 
to  try  for  the  object,  namely,  a  good  civic  poem.  .  .  ." 

1  That  is,  to  have  it  bought  by  some  public  society.  2  An  editor. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  297 

"February  15.  ...  A  day  of  great  pleasure,  profit 
and  fatigue.  .  .  .  Griggs's  lecture.  .  .  .  The  address  on 
'Erasmus  and  Luther'  was  very  inspiring.  Griggs  is 
in  the  full  tide  of  youthful  inspiration  and  gives  him- 
self to  his  audience  without  stint.  He  did  not  quite 
do  justice  to  the  wonderful  emancipation  of  thought 
which  Protestantism  has  brought  to  the  world,  but 
his  illustration  of  the  two  characters  was  masterly.  I 
said  afterwards  to  Fanny  Ames:  'He  will  burn  him- 
self out.'  She  thinks  that  he  is  wisely  conservative  of 
his  physical  strength.  I  said,  'He  bleeds  at  every 
pore.'  I  used  to  say  this  of  myself  with  regard  to 
ordinary  social  life.  Went  to  the  Club,  where  was 
made  to  preside.  Todd  and  Todkinee  *  both  spoke 
excellently.  Then  to  Symphony  Concert  to  hear  Kreis- 
ler  and  the  'Pastoral  Symphony.'  " 

"February  16.  .  .  .  The  Philosophy  meeting  and 
Griggs's  lecture  revived  in  me  the  remembrance  of  my 
philosophic  studies  and  attempts  of  thirty-five  years 
ago,  and  I  determined  to  endeavor  to  revise  them  and 
to  publish  them  in  some  shape.  Have  thought  a  good 
deal  this  morning  of  this  cream  of  genius  in  which  the 
fervent  heat  of  youth  fuses  conviction  and  imagina- 
tion and  gives  the  world  its  great  masters  and  master- 
pieces. It  cannot  outlast  the  length  of  human  life  of 
which  it  is  the  poetry.  Age  follows  it  with  slow  phi- 
losophy, but  can  only  strengthen  the  outposts  which 
youth  has  gained  with  daring  flight.  Both  are  divinely 
ordained  and  most  blessed.  Of  the  dear  Christ  the 
world  had  only  this  transcendent  efflorescence.    I  said 

1  Professor  Todd,  of  Amherst,  and  his  wife,  Mabel  Loomis  Todd. 


298  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

to  Ames  yesterday,  'I  find  in  the  Hebrew  prophets 
all  the  doctrine  which  I  find  in  Christ's  teaching.'  He 
said,  'Yes,  it  is  there  seminally.'  We  agreed  that  it 
was  the  life  which  made  the  difference." 

"February  21.  .  .  .  My  dearest  Maud  left  by  1  p.m. 
train  to  sail  for  Europe  to-morrow.  I  could  not  go  to 
the  hearing.  Was  on  hand  to  think  of  small  details 
which  might  have  been  overlooked.  Gave  them  my 
fountain  pen,  to  Jack's  great  pleasure.  Julia  Richards 
came  to  take  care  of  me.  I  suffered  extreme  depression 
in  coming  back  to  the  empty  house,  every  corner  of 
which  is  so  identified  with  Maud's  sweet  and  powerful 
presence.  The  pain  of  losing  her,  even  for  a  short 
time,  seemed  intolerable.  I  was  better  in  the  evening. 
Chug  amused  me  with  a  game  of  picquet." 

Her  spirits  soon  rallied,  and  the  granddaughters 

did  their  best  to  fill  the  great  void.    She  writes  to 

Laura  about  this  time :  — 

Not  a  sign  was  made,  not  a  note  was  wrote, 
Not  a  telegram  was  wired, 
Not  a  rooster  sent  up  his  warning  note, 
When  the  eggs  from  your  larder  were  fixed. 

We  swallow  them  darkly  at  break  of  fast, 
Each  one  to  the  other  winking, 
And  "woe  is  me  if  this  be  the  last" 
Is  what  we  are  sadly  thinking. 

The  egg  on  missile  errand  sent 
Some  time  has  been  maturing, 
And,  with  whate'er  endearment  blent, 
Is  rarely  reassuring. 

But  yours,  which  in  their  freshness  came 
Just  when  they  might  be  wanted, 
A  message  brought  without  a  name, 
"Love,"  we  will  take  for  granted.  [Copyrighted.] 


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K  S  ~ 

3      .    a 

33    co     a 

s  s  i 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  299 

Julia  is  rather  strict  with  me,  but  very  good,  con- 
sidering whose  grandchild  she  is. 

Affect., 

Mother. 

"M arch  25.  I  received  in  one  day  three  notes  ask- 
ing me  regarding  the  'Life  of  Margaret  Shepard,'  and 
'Secret  Confessions  of  a  Priest.'  One  writer  had  seen 
in  some  paper  that  she  could  have  the  books  by  ap- 
plying to  me;  Miss wrote  to  the  same  intent; 

Miss wrote  and  enclosed  forty  cents'  worth  of 

stamps  for  one  of  the  books.  I  have  replied  to  all  that 
I  know  nothing  of  the  books  in  question,  and  that  I 
am  neither  agent  nor  bookseller." 

"March  30.  Lunch  with  Mrs.  Fields  after  church. 
Heard  a  very  inspiring  sermon  from  Samuel  A.  Eliot. 
This  young  man  has  a  very  noble  bearing  and  a  strin- 
gent way  of  presenting  truth.  He  has  that  vital  re- 
ligious power  which  is  rare  and  most  precious.  Before 
he  had  spoken  I  had  been  asking  in  my  mind,  how  can 
we  make  the  -past  present  to  us  ?  The  Easter  service 
and  Lent  also  seem  intended  to  do  this,  but  our  imagi- 
nations droop  and  lag  behind  our  desires.  .  .  ." 

"April  2.  .  .  .  Went  in  the  evening  to  see  'Ben-Hur' 
with  kind  Sarah  Jewett  —  her  treat,  as  was  my  at- 
tendance at  the  opera.  The  play  was  altogether  spec- 
tacular, but  very  good  in  that  line.  .  .  ." 

"April  3.  .  .  .  Went  to  the  celebration  of  E.  E. 
Hale's  eightieth  birthday,  in  which  the  community 
largely  participated.  Senator  Hoar  was  the  orator  and 
spoke  finely.  .  .  .  Hale's  response  was  manly,  cheery, 


300  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  devout.  He  has  certainly  done  much  good  work, 
and  has  suggested  many  good  things." 

"April  12.  Lunch  with  Mrs.  Wheelwright.  I  found 
Agnes  Repplier  very  agreeable.  She  had  known  the 
wife  of  Green,  the  historian,  'very,  almost  too  bril- 
liant.' Told  me  something  about  his  life.  I  enjoyed 
meeting  her." 

To  Laura 

Yes,  I  likes  my  chilluns  better  'n  other  folkses'  chil- 
luns.  P'raps  't  is  as  well  sometimes  to  let  them  know 
that  I  do.  .  .  . 

What  you  write  about  my  little  Memoir  of  your 
dear  Papa  touches  me  a  good  deal.  I  did  my  best  to 
make  it  as  satisfactory  as  the  limits  imposed  upon  me 
would  allow.  I  don't  think  that  I  ever  had  a  word  of 
commendation  for  it.  Michael  killed  it  as  a  book  by 
printing  it  entire  in  his  Report  for  the  year.  Now  I  am 
much  gratified  by  your  notice  of  it.  You  are  most 
welcome  to  use  it  in  connection  with  the  letters.1 

"May  16.  In  the  evening  the  Italian  supper  at  the 
Hotel  Piscopo,  North  End.  I  recited  Goldoni's  toast 
from  the  '  Locandiera,'  and  also  made  a  little  speech 
at  the  end  of  the  banquet.  Padre  Roberto,  a  Venetian 
priest,  young  and  handsome,  sat  near  me.  .  .  ." 

"May  18.  .  .  .  I  had  prayed  that  this  might  be  a 
real  Whitsunday  to  me  and  I  felt  that  it  was.  Notice 
was  given  of  a  meeting  at  which  Catholic,  Jew,  Epis- 

1  Letters  and  Journals  of  Samuel  Gridley  Howe. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  301 

copalian,  and  Unitarian  are  to  speak  regarding  the 
Filipinos.  This  seemed  like  the  Millennium.  It  is  the 
enlargement  of  religious  sympathy;  not,  as  some  may 
think,  the  progress  of  critical  indifferentism. 

"During  this  morning's  service  my  desire  to  speak 
to  prisoners  reasserted  itself  strongly;  also  my  thought 
of  one  of  my  sermons  which  I  wish  to  write.  One 
should  be  to  the  text:  'The  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ,'  the  reflection  of  divine  glory  in  God's 
saints,  like  the  reflection  of  the  sun's  light  in  the 
planets.  Another  about  Adam  being  placed  in  Eden 
to  tend  the  flowers  and  water  them.  This  should  con- 
cern our  office  in  the  land  of  our  birth,  into  which  we 
are  born  to  love  and  serve  our  country.  Will  speak  of 
the  self -banished  Americans,  Hale's  'Man  without  a 
Country,'  etc.  This  day  has  been  so  full  of  thought 
and  suggestion  that  I  hardly  know  how  to  let  it  go. 
I  pray  that  it  may  bear  some  fruit  in  my  life,  what  is 
left  of  it." 

"May  24-.  The  annual  Club  luncheon  in  honor  of 
my  birthday.  I  felt  almost  overwhelmed  by  the  great 
attention  shown  me  and  by  the  constant  talk  of 
speakers  with  reference  to  myself.  ...  I  don't  find  in 
myself  this  charm,  this  goodness,  attributed  to  me  by 
such  speakers,  but  I  know  that  I  love  the  Club  and 
love  the  world  of  my  own  time,  so  far  as  I  know  it. 
They  called  me  Queen  and  kissed  my  hand.  WThen  I 
came  home  I  fell  in  spirit  before  the  feet  of  the  dear 
God,  thanking  Him  for  the  regard  shown  me,  and  pray- 
ing that  it  might  not  for  one  moment  make  me  vain.  I 
read  my  translation  of  Horace's  ode,  'Quis  Desiderio,' 


302  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  it  really  seemed  to  suit  the  mention  made  by  Mrs. 
Cheney  of  our  departed  members,  praecipu'e,  Dr.  Zack; 
Dr.  Hoder  [?]  of  England  was  there,  and  ex-Governor 
Long  and  T.  W.  Higginson,  also  Agnes  Irwin.  It  was 
a  great  time." 

"July  5.  ...  I  wrote  to  Ethel  V.  Partridge,  Omaha, 
a  high-school  student :  '  Get  all  the  education  that  you 
can.  Cultivate  habits  of  studious  thought  with  all 
that  books  can  teach.  The  fulfilment  of  the  nearest 
duty  gives  the  best  education.'  I  fear  that  I  have 
come  to  know  this  by  doing  the  exact  opposite,  i.e., 
neglecting  much  of  the  nearest  duty  in  the  pursuit  of 
an  intellectual  wisdom  which  I  have  not  attained. ..." 

Maud  and  Florence  were  both  away  in  the  early 
part  of  this  summer,  and  various  grandchildren  kept 
her  company  at  Oak  Glen.  There  were  other  visitors, 
among  them  Count  Salome  di  Campello,  a  cheery 
guest  who  cooked  spaghetti  for  her,  and  helped  the 
granddaughter  to  set  off  the  Fourth  of  July  fire- 
works, to  her  equal  pleasure  and  terror.  During  his 
visit  she  invited  the  Italian  Ambassador  1  to  spend  a 
couple  of  days  at  Oak  Glen.  On  July  14  she  writes:  — 

"Not  having  heard  from  the  Italian  Ambassador, 
the  Count  and  I  supposed  that  he  was  not  coming.  In 
the  late  afternoon  came  a  letter  saying  that  he  would 
arrive  to-morrow.  We  were  troubled  at  this  late  intel- 
ligence, which  gave  me  no  time  to  invite  people  to 
meet  the  guest.  I  lay  down  for  my  afternoon  rest  with 
a  very  uneasy  mind.   Remembering  St.  Paul's  words 

1  Count  Mayer  des  Planches. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  303 

about  *  Angels  unawares,'  I  felt  comforted,  thinking 
that  the  Angel  of  Hospitality  would  certainly  visit 
me,  whether  the  guest  proved  congenial  or  not." 

"July  15.  .  .  .  The  Ambassador  arrived  as  pre- 
viously announced.  He  proved  a  most  genial  and 
charming  person;  a  man  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  with 
exquisite  manners,  as  much  at  home  in  our  simplicity 
as  he  doubtless  is  in  scenes  of  luxury  and  magnificence. 
Daisy  Chanler  drove  out  for  afternoon  tea,  at  my 
request,  and  made  herself  charming.  After  her  came 
Emily  Ladenberg,  who  also  made  a  pleasing  impres- 
sion. Our  guest  played  on  the  piano  and  joined  in 
our  evening  whist.  We  were  all  delighted  with 
him." 

After  the  Ambassador's  departure  she  writes :  — 
"He  gave  me  an  interesting  account  of  King  Charles 
Albert  of  Savoia.  He  is  a  man  of  powerful  tempera- 
ment, which  we  all  felt;  has  had  to  do  with  Bismarck 
and  Salisbury  and  all  the  great  European  politicians 
of  his  time.   We  were  all  sorry  to  see  him  depart." 

The  Journal  tells  of  many  pleasures,  among  them 
"a  delightful  morning  in  the  green  parlor  with  Mar- 
garet Deland  and  dear  Maud." 

On  August  24  she  writes :  — 

"This  day  has  been  devoted  to  a  family  function  of 
great  interest,  namely,  the  christening  of  Daisy  and 
Wintie's  boy  baby,  Theodore  Ward,  the  President1 
himself  standing  godfather.  Jack  Elliott  and  I  were 
on  hand  in  good  time,  both  of  us  in  our  best  attire. 

1  Theodore  Roosevelt. 


304  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

We  found  a  very  chosen  company,  the  Sydney  Web- 
sters,  Owen  Wister,  Senator  Lodge  and  wife,  the 
latter  standing  as  godmother.  Mr.  Diman,  of  the 
School,1  officiated,  Parson  Stone  being  ill.  The  Presi- 
dent made  his  response  quite  audibly.  The  Chanler 
children  looked  lovely,  and  the  baby  as  dear  as  a 
baby  can  look.  His  godfather  gave  him  a  beautiful 
silver  bowl  lined  with  gold.  I  gave  a  silver  porringer, 
Maud  a  rattle  with  silver  bells;  lunch  followed.  Presi- 
dent Roosevelt  took  me  in  to  the  table  and  seated  me 
on  his  right.  This  was  a  very  distinguished  honor. 
The  conversation  was  rather  literary.  The  President 
admires  Emerson's  poems,  and  also  Longfellow  and 
Sienkiewicz.  He  paid  me  the  compliment  of  saying 
that  Kipling  alone  had  understood  the  meaning  of  my 
'Battle  Hymn,'  and  that  he  admired  him  therefor. 
Wister  proposed  the  baby's  health,  and  I  recited  a 
quatrain  which  came  to  me  early  this  morning.  Here 

it  is :  — 

"Roses  are  the  gift  of  God, 
Laurels  are  the  gift  of  fame; 
Add  the  beauty  of  thy  life 
To  the  glory  of  thy  name." 

"I  said,  'Two  lines  for  the  President  and  two  for 
the  baby';  the  two  first  naturally  for  the  President. 
As  I  sat  waiting  for  the  ceremony,  I  called  the  dear 
roll  of  memory,  Uncle  Sam  and  so  on  back  to  Grandpa 
Ward.  I  was  very  thankful  to  participate  in  this 
beautiful  occasion.  But  the  service  and  talk  about 
the  baby's  being  born  in  sin,  etc.,  etc.,  seemed  to  me 
very  inconsistent  with  Christ's  saying  that  he  who 

1  St.  George's,  Newport. 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  305 

would  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  must  become 
1  as  a  little  child.'  He  also  said,  'of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.'  " 

She  had  a  high  admiration  for  Colonel  Roosevelt, 
and  a  regard  so  warm  that  she  would  never  allow  any 
adverse  criticism  of  him  in  her  presence.  The  follow- 
ing verses  express  this  feeling :  — 

Here  's  to  Teddy, 

Blythe  and  ready, 

Fit  for  each  occasion ! 

Who  as  he 

Acceptably 

Can  represent  the  Nation? 

Neither  ocean 
Binds  his  motion, 
Undismayed  explorer; 
Challenge  dares  him, 
Pullman  bears  him 
Swifter  than  Aurora. 

Here's  to  Teddy! 

Let  no  eddy 

Block  the  onward  current. 

Him  we  trust, 

And  guard  we  must 

From  schemes  to  sight  abhorrent. 

When  the  tuba 

Called  to  Cuba 

Where  the  fight  was  raging, 

Rough  and  ready 

Riders  led  he, 

Valorous  warfare  waging. 

Here's  to  Teddy! 
Safe  and  steady, 
Loved  by  every  section! 


306  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

South  and  North 

Will  hurry  forth 

To  hasten  his  election. 

1904. 

On  September  12,  a  notice  of  the  death  of  William 
Allen  Butler  is  pasted  in  the  Diary.  Below  it  she 
writes :  — 

"A  pleasant  man.  I  met  him  at  the  Hazeltines'  in 
Rome  in  1898  and  1899.  His  poem  ["Nothing  to 
Wear"]  was  claimed  by  one  or  two  people.  I  met  his 
father  [a  Cabinet  Minister]  at  a  dinner  at  the  Ban- 
crofts' in  New  York,  at  which  ex-President  Van  Buren 
was  also  present,  and  W.  M.  Thackeray,  who  said  to 
me  across  the  table  that  Browning's  'How  They 
Brought  the  Good  News'  was  a  'good  jingle.'  " 

On  the  29th  she  spoke  at  a  meeting  of  the  New 
England  Woman's  Club  in  memory  of  Dr.  Zakrzewska, 
and  records  her  final  words :  — 

"I  pray  God  earnestly  that  we  women  may  never 
go  back  from  the  ground  which  has  been  gained  for 
us  by  our  noble  pioneers  and  leaders.  I  pray  that 
these  bright  stars  of  merit,  set  in  our  human  firma- 
ment, may  shine  upon  us  and  lead  us  to  better  and 
better  love  and  service  for  God  and  man." 

"In  the  afternoon  to  hear  reports  of  delegates  to 
Biennial  at  Los  Angeles.  These  were  very  interesting, 
but  the  activity  shown  made  me  feel  my  age,  and  its 
one  great  infirmity,  loss  of  power  of  locomotion.  I  felt 
somehow  the  truth  of  the  line  which  Mr.  Robert  C. 
Winthrop  once  quoted  to  me :  — 

"  '  Superfluous  lags  the  veteran  on  the  stage.'  " 


STEPPING  WESTWARD  307 

Yet  a  few  days  later  she  writes :  — 

"I  had  this  morning  so  strong  a  feeling  of  the  good- 
ness of  the  divine  Parent  in  the  experience  of  my  life, 
especially  of  its  most  trying  period,  that  I  had  to  cry 
out,  'What  shall  I,  who  have  received  so  much,  give 
in  return?'  I  felt  that  I  must  only  show  that  forbear- 
ance and  forgiveness  to  others  which  the  ever  blessed 
One  has  shown  to  me.  My  own  family  does  not  call 
for  this.  I  am  cherished  by  its  members  with  great 
tenderness  and  regard.  I  thought  later  in  the  day 
of  a  sermon  to  prisoners  which  would  brighten  their 
thoughts  of  the  love  of  God.  Text  from  St.  John's 
Epistle,  'Behold  what  manner  of  love  is  this  that  we 
should  be  called  the  sons  of  God.' " 

This  was  the  year  of  the  coal  strike  in  Pennsylvania, 
which  made  much  trouble  in  Boston.  She  notes  one 
Sunday  that  service  at  the  Church  of  the  Disciples 
was  held  in  the  church  parlors  "on  account  of  the 
shortage  of  coal."  This  recalls  vivid  pictures  of  the 
time;  distracted  coal  merchants  dealing  out  prom- 
ises, with  nothing  else  to  deal;  portly  magnates  and 
stately  dames  driving  down  Beacon  Street  in  triumph 
with  coals  in  a  paper  bag  to  replenish  the  parlor  fire: 
darker  pictures,  too,  of  poverty  and  suffering. 

At  241  Beacon  Street  the  supply  was  running  low, 
and  the  coal  dealer  was  summoned  by  telephone.  "A 
load  of  coal?  Impossible,  madam!  We  have  no —  I 
beg  your  pardon !  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe?  Mrs.  Howe's 
house  is  cold?  You  shall  have  some  within  the  hour!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET 
1903-1905;  aet.  84-86 
IN  MUSIC  HALL 

Looking  down  upon  the  white  heads  of  my  contemporaries 

Beneath  what  mound  of  snow 
Are  hid  my  springtime  roses? 
How  shall  Remembrance  know 
Where  buried  Hope  reposes? 

In  what  forgetful  heart 
As  in  a  canon  darkling, 
Slumbers  the  blissful  art 
That  set  my  heaven  sparkling? 

What  sense  shall  never  know. 
Soul  shall  remember; 
Roses  beneath  the  snow, 
June  in  November. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  year  1903  began  with  the  celebration  at  Faneuil 
Hall  of  the  fortieth  anniversary  of  Lincoln's  Eman- 
cipation Proclamation.  She  was  one  of  the  speakers. 
"I  felt  much  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  spoke, 
I  thought,  better  than  usual,  going  back  to  the  heroic 
times  before  and  during  the  war,  and  to  the  first  cele- 
bration forty  years  ago,  at  which  I  was  present." 

Work  of  all  kinds  poured  in,  the  usual  steady  stream. 

"January  6.  Wrote  a  new  circular  for  Countess." 

Who  the  Countess  was,  or  what  the  circular  was 
about,  is  not  known.  By  this  time  it  had  become  the 
custom  (or  so  it  seemed  to  exasperated  daughters  and 
granddaughters)  for  any  one  who  wanted  anything  in 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  309 

the  literary  line,  from  a  proverb  to  a  pamphlet,  to  ask 
her  for  it. 

It  is  remembered  how  on  a  certain  evening,  when 
she  was  resting  after  a  weary  day,  a  "special  delivery" 
note  was  received  from  a  person  whom  she  scarcely 
knew,  asking  for  "her  thoughts  on  the  personality  of 
God,  by  return  mail."  This  was  one  of  the  few  re- 
quests she  ever  denied.  People  asked  her  to  give  them 
material  for  their  club  papers  (sometimes  to  write 
them!),  to  put  them  through  college,  to  read  their 
manuscripts,  to  pay  the  funeral  expenses  of  their  rela- 
tives. A  volume  of  the  letters  conveying  these  re- 
quests would  be  curious  reading. 

The  petition  for  a  "little  verse"  was  rarely  refused. 
Her  notebooks  are  full  of  occasional  poems,  only  a 
small  proportion  of  which  ever  appeared  in  print. 
Many  of  them  are  "autographs."  She  always  meant 
to  honor  every  request  of  this  kind;  the  country  must 
be  full  of  volumes  inscribed  by  her.  Here  are  a  few 
of  them. 

For  Francis  C.  Stokes,  Westtown  School,  Pennsylvania 

Auspicious  be  the  rule 
Of  love  at  Westtown  School, 
And  happy,  mid  his  youthful  folks 
The  daily  task  of  Master  Stokes ! 

[When  this  gentleman's  note  came,  she  was  "  tired 
to  death."  The  granddaughter  said,  "You  can't  do  it. 
Let  me  write  a  friendly  note,  and  you  shall  sign  it!" 

"You're  right,"  she  said,  "I  can't:  I  am  too  tired 
to  think!"  But  when  she  saw  the  note  taken  away, 
"No,  no!"  she  cried,  "I  can!  He  is  probably  a  most 


310  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

hard-working  man,  and  a  little  word  may  cheer  him. 

Here,  I  have  a  line  already!  "] 

Wealth  is  good,  health  is  better,  character  is  best. 

Citizens  of  the  new  world, 
Children  of  the  promise, 
So  let  us  live ! 

Love  to  learn,  and  learn  to  love. 

Remember  to  forget  your  troubles,  but  don't  forget  to  remem- 
ber your  blessings. 

For  Mr.  Charles  Gallup,  who  had  written  to  her 
several  times  without  receiving  a  reply,  she  wrote  — 

If  one  by  name  Gallup 

Desires  to  wallop 

A  friend  who  too  slowly  responds, 

She  will  plead  that  her  age 

Has  attained  such  a  stage 

She  is  held  hand  and  foot  in  its  bonds. 

Here,  again,  are  a  few  sentences,  gathered  from 
various  calendars. 

The  little  girls  on  the  school  bench,  using  or  misusing 
their  weekly  allowance,  are  learning  to  build  their  future 
house,  or  pluck  it  down. 

No  gift  can  make  rich  those  who  are  poor  in  wisdom. 

In  whatever  you  may  undertake,  never  sacrifice  quality 
for  quantity,  even  when  quantity  pays  and  quality  does  not. 

For  so  long,  the  body  can  perform  its  functions  and  hold 
together,  but  what  term  is  set  for  the  soul?  Nothing  in  its 
make-up  foretokens  a  limited  existence.  Its  sentence  would 
seem  to  be,  "Once  and  always." 

The  verses  in  the  notebooks  are  by  no  means  all  "by 
request."  The  rhyming  fit  might  seize  her  anywhere, 
at  any  time.  She  wrote  the  rough  draft  on  whatever 
was  at  hand,  often  on  the  back  of  note,  circular,  or 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  311 

newspaper  wrapper.  She  could  never  forget  the  war- 
time days  when  paper  cost  half  a  dollar  a  pound. 

Nor  were  people  content  with  writing:  they  came 
singly,  in  pairs,  in  groups,  to  proffer  requests,  to  pay 
respects,  to  ask  counsel.  The  only  people  she  met  un- 
willingly were  those  who  came  to  bewail  their  lot  and 
demand  her  sympathy. 

No  one  will  ever  know  the  number  of  her  benefac- 
tions. They  were  mostly,  of  necessity,  small,  yet  we 
must  think  they  went  a  long  way.  At  the  New  England 
Woman's  Club,  whenever  a  good  new  cause  came  up, 
she  would  say,  "I  will  start  the  subscription  with  a 
dollar!"  Many  noble  and  enduring  things  began  with 
the  "President's  dollar."  If  she  had  had  a  hundred 
dollars  to  give,  it  would  have  been  joyfully  given:  if 
she  had  had  but  ten  cents,  it  would  not  have  been  with- 
held. She  had  none  of  the  false  pride  which  shrinks 
from  giving  a  small  sum. 

Beggars  and  tramps  were  tenderly  dealt  with. 
A  discharged  criminal  in  particular  must  never  be 
refused  help.  Work  must  be  found  for  him  if  possible; 
if  not,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  got  a  dollar,  "to  help 
him  find  work"! 

"January  10.  At  11.30  received  message  from  'New 
York  World'  that  it  would  pay  for  an  article  sent  at 
once  on  'Gambling  among  Society  People.'  Wrote 
this  in  a  little  more  than  an  hour." 

"January  20.  .  .  .  Some  little  agitation  about  my 
appearance  at  the  Artists'  Festival  to-night,  as  one  of 
the  patronesses.  I  had  already  a  white  woollen  dress 
quite  suitable  for  the  prescribed  costume.   Some  be- 


312  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

nevolent  person  or  persons  ordered  for  me  and  sent  a 
cloak  of  fine  white  cloth,  beautiful  to  look  at  but  heavy 
to  wear.  A  headdress  was  improvised  out  of  one  of  my 
Breton  caps,  with  a  long  veil  of  lawn.  Jack  Elliott 
made  me  a  lovely  coronet  out  of  a  bit  of  gold  braid 
with  one  jewel  of  dear  Maud's.  Arriving,  to  my  sur- 
prise, I  found  the  Queen's  chair  waiting  for  me.  I  sat 
thereon  very  still,  the  other  patronesses  being  most 
kind  and  cordial,  and  saw  the  motley  throng  and  the 
curious  pageants.  Costumes  most  beautiful,  but  the 
hall  too  small  for  much  individual  effect.  Adele  Thayer 
wore  the  famous  Thayer  diamonds." 

"January  27.  Woke  early  and  began  to  worry  about 
the  hearing.  .  .  .  Dressed  with  more  care  than  usual 
and  went  betimes  to  State  House.  Had  a  good  deliver- 
ance of  my  paper.  The  opposition  harped  upon  our 
bill  as  an  effort  to  obtain  class  legislation,  saying  also 
that  they  knew  it  to  be  an  entering  wedge  to  obtain 
suffrage  for  all  women;  the  two  positions  being  evi- 
dently irreconcilable.  When  our  turn  for  rebuttal  came, 
I  said :  '  Many  years  ago  John  Quincy  Adams  presented 
in  Congress  a  petition  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in 
the  District  of  Columbia,  but  none  of  the  Southerners 
imagined  that  this  petition  was  intended  to  keep  the 
other  negroes  of  the  South  in  slavery!  Are  we,  who, 
for  thirty  years  past,  and  more,  have  been  coming 
here  to  ask  for  full  suffrage  for  all  women,  to  be  accused 
of  coming  here  now  with  a  view  to  the  exclusion  of 
our  former  clients  from  suffrage?  How  can  we  be  said 
to  contemplate  this  and  at  the  same  time  to  be  put- 
ting in  an  entering  wedge  for  universal  suffrage?' 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  313 

"I  thank  God  for  what  I  did  say  at  the  hearing  and 
for  what  I  did  not  say.  Two  of  the  opposing  speakers 
were  rude  in  their  remarks;  all  were  absurd,  hunting 
an  issue  which  they  knew  to  be  false,  namely,  our 
seeking  for  class  legislation." 

"January  28.  Although  very  tired  after  yesterday's 
meeting,  I  went  in  the  evening  to  see  '  Julius  Caesar '  in 
Richard  Mansfield's  interpretation.  The  play  was 
beautifully  staged;  Mansfield  very  good  in  the  tent 
scene;  parts  generally  well  filled.  .  .  ." 

"March  3.  My  dear  Maud  returned  this  evening 
from  New  York.  She  has  been  asked  to  speak  at  to- 
morrow's suffrage  hearing.  I  advised  her  to  reflect 
before  embarking  upon  this  new  voyage.  .  .  .  When 
she  told  me  what  she  had  in  mind  to  say,  I  felt  that  a 
real  word  had  been  given  her.  I  said:  'Go  and  say 
that!'. 

"April  1.  .  .  .  A  telegram  announced  the  birth  of 
my  first  great-grandchild,  Harry  Hall's  infant  daugh- 
ter.1 .  .  ." 

"April  11.  To  Mrs.  Bigelow  Lawrence's,  Parker 
House,  to  hear  music.  Mrs.  [Henry]  Whitman  called 
for  me. 

"Delightful  music;  two  quartettes  of  Beethoven's, 
a  quintette  of  Mozart's,  which  I  heard  at  Joseph  Cool- 
idge's  some  thirty  or  more  years  ago.  I  recognized  it 
by  the  first  movement,  which  Bellini  borrowed  in  a 
sextette  which  I  studied  in  my  youth  from  'La  Stra- 
niera,'  an  opera  never  given  in  these  days.  ..." 

"April  17.  Winchendon  lecture.  ...  A  day  of  an- 

1  Julia  Ward  Howe  Hall. 


314  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

guish  for  me.  I  was  about  to  start  for  Winchendon 
when  my  dearest  Maud  so  earnestly  besought  me  not 
to  go,  the  weather  being  very  threatening,  that  I  could 
not  deny  her.  Words  can  hardly  say  how  I  suffered  in 
giving  up  the  trip  and  disappointing  so  many  people. 
...  As  I  lay  taking  my  afternoon  rest,  my  heart  said 
to  God,  'You  cannot  help  me  in  this';  but  He  did  help 
me,  for  I  was  able  soon  after  this  to  interest  myself  in 
things  at  hand.  I  heard  Mabilleau's  lecture  on  French 
art  in  its  recent  departure.  It  was  brilliant  and  forci- 
bly stated,  but  disappointing.  He  quoted  with  admi- 
ration Baudelaire's  hideous  poem,  'Un  Carogne.'  .  .  ." 

"April  21.  In  the  afternoon  attended  anniversary 
of  the  Blind  Kindergarten,  where  I  made,  as  usual,  a 
brief  address,  beginning  with  'God  said,  Let  there  be 
light,'  a  sentence  which  makes  itself  felt  throughout 
the  human  domain,  where  great-hearted  men  are 
stirred  by  it  to  combat  the  spirits  of  darkness.  Spoke 
also  of  the  culture  of  the  blind  as  vindicating  the  dig- 
nity of  the  human  mind,  which  can  become  a  value  and 
a  power  despite  the  loss  of  outward  sense.  Alluded  to 
dear  Chev's  sense  of  this  and  his  resolve  that  the  blind, 
from  being  simply  a  burden,  should  become  of  value 
to  the  community.  The  care  of  them  draws  forth 
tender  sympathy  in  those  whose  office  it  is  to  cherish 
and  instruct  them.  Spoke  of  the  nursery  as  one  of  the 
dearest  of  human  institutions.  Commended  the  little 
blind  nursery  to  the  affectionate  regard  of  seeing 
people.  The  children  did  exceedingly  well,  especially 
the  orchestra.  The  little  blind  'cellist  was  remarkable." 

"May  2.  Dreamed  last  night  that  I  was  dead  and 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  315 

kept  saying,  'I  found  it  out  immediately,'  to  those 
around  me.  .  .  ." 

"May  28.  My  prayer  for  the  new  year  of  my  life 
beginning  to-day  is,  that  in  some  work  that  I  shall 
undertake  I  may  help  to  make  clear  the  goodness  of 
God  to  some  who  need  to  know  more  of  it  than  they 
do " 

"June  22.  Mabel  Loomis  Todd  wrote  asking  me  for 
a  word  to  enclose  in  the  corner-stone  of  the  new 
observatory  building  at  Amherst  [Massachusetts].  I 
have  just  sent  her  the  following :  — 

The  stars  against  the  tyrant  fought 
In  famous  days  of  old; 
The  stars  in  freedom's  banner  wrought 
Shall  the  wide  earth  enfold. 

"June  23.  Kept  within  doors  by  the  damp  weather. 
Read  in  William  James's  book,  'Varieties  of  Religious 
Experience.' .  .  .  Had  a  strange  fatigue  —  a  restless- 
ness in  my  brain." 

"June  25.  .  .  .  The  James  book  which  I  finished 
yesterday  left  in  my  mind  a  painful  impression  of 
doubt;  a  God  who  should  be  only  my  better  self,  or  an 
impersonal  pervading  influence.  These  were  sugges- 
tions which  left  me  very  lonely  and  forlorn.  To-day, 
as  I  thought  it  all  over,  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  seemed  to  come  back  to  me;  the  God  of 
Christ,  and  his  saints  and  martyrs.  I  said  to  myself: 
'Let  me  be  steeped  in  the  devotion  of  the  Psalms,  and 
of  Paul's  Epistles!'  I  took  up  Coquerel's  sermons 
on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  simple,  beautiful,  positive.  ..." 

"July  30.  Oak  Glen.  Rose  at  6.15  a.m.  and  had  good 


316  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

luck  in  dressing  quickly.  With  dear  Flossy  took  9  a.m. 
train  for  Boston.  At  Middletown  station  found  the 
teachers  from  the  West  [Denver  and  Iowa],  who 
started  the  'Battle  Hymn'  when  they  saw  me  ap- 
proaching. This  seemed  to  me  charming.  My  man 
Michael,  recognizing  the  tune,  said:  'Mrs.  Howe,  this 
is  a  send-off  for  you!'.  .  ." 

She  was  going  to  keep  a  lecture  engagement  in  Con- 
cord, Massachusetts;  her  theme,  "A  Century  from  the 
Birth  of  Emerson."  She  was  anxious  about  this  paper, 
and  told  Mr.  Sanborn  (the  inevitable  reporter  calling 
to  borrow  her  manuscript)  that  she  thought  the  less 
said  about  the  address  the  better.  "I  have  tried  very 
hard  to  say  the  right  thing,  but  doubt  whether  I 
have  succeeded."  Spite  of  these  doubts,  the  lecture 
was  received  with  enthusiasm. 

"  September  6.  I  was  very  dull  at  waking  and  dreaded 
the  drive  to  church  and  the  stay  to  Communion.  The 
drive  partly  dissipated  my  'megrims';  every  bright 
object  seemed  to  me  to  praise  God.  .  .  .  The  Com- 
munion service  was  very  comforting.  Especially  did 
Christ's  words  come  to  me,  'Abide  in  me,'  etc.  I  felt 
that  if  I  would  abide  in  Him,  old  as  I  am,  I  could  still 
do  some  good  work.  'Yes!  my  strong  friend,'  my  heart 
said,  '  I  will  abide  in  thee,'  and  a  bit  of  the  old  Easter 
anthem  came  back  to  me,  'He  sitteth  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,  in  the  glory  of  the  Father.'  No,  it  is  a 
verse  of  the  Te  Deum." 

In  October  a  lecture  in  South  Berwick  gave  her  the 
opportunity,  always  greatly  enjoyed,  of  a  visit  to 
Sarah  Orne  Jewett  and  her  sister  Mary. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  317 

"November  1.  South  Berwick.  A  delightful  drive. 
Mary  Jewett,  Annie  Fields,  and  I  to  visit  Mrs.  Tyson 
in  the  Hamilton  House  described  by  Sarah  in  her 
'Tory  Lover.'  .  .  .  Most  interesting.  Mrs.  Tyson  very 
cordial  and  delightful.  .  .  .  She  came  over  later  to  din- 
ner and  we  had  such  a  pleasant  time !  In  afternoon 
copied  most  of  my  screed  for  the  'Boston  Globe.'" 

It  surely  was  not  on  this  occasion  that  she  described 
dinner  as  "a  thing  of  courses  and  remorses!  " 

"November  2.  Took  reluctant  leave  of  the  Jewett 
house  and  the  trio,  Sarah,  Mary,  and  Annie  Fields. 
We  had  a  wonderful  dish  of  pigeons  for  lunch.  ..." 

It  was  delightful  to  see  our  mother  and  Miss  Jewett 
together.  They  were  the  best  of  playmates,  having  a 
lovely  intimacy  of  understanding.  Their  talk  rippled 
with  light  and  laughter.  Such  stories  as  they  told! 
such  songs  as  they  sang!  who  that  heard  will  ever 
forget  our  mother's  story  of  Edward  Everett  in  his 
youth?  He  was  to  take  three  young  ladies  to  drive, 
and  had  but  the  one  horse;  he  wished  to  please  them 
all  equally.  To  the  first  he  said,  "  The  horse  is  per- 
fectly fresh  now;  you  have  him  in  his  best  condition." 
To  the  second  he  said,  "  The  horse  was  a  little  antic 
at  first,  so  you  will  have  the  safer  drive."  To  the 
third  he  said,  "  Now  that  the  other  two  have  had 
their  turn,  we  need  not  hasten  back.  You  can  have 
the  longest  drive." 

It  is  recalled  that  during  this  visit,  when  Laura 
felt  bound  to  remonstrate  in  the  matter  of  fruitcake, 
"Sarah"  took  sides  with  ardor.  "  You  shall  have  all 
you  want,  Mrs.  Howe,  and  a  good  big  piece  to  take 


318  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

home  besides!  Put  it  somewhere  where  the  girls  can't 
find  it!" 

She  nodded.  "There  is  a  corner  in  my  closet,  which 
even  Maud  dare  not  explore!" 

The  fruitcake  was  duly  packed,  transported,  and 
eaten  —  we  are  bound  to  say  without  ill  effect. 

This  recalls  the  day  when,  leaving  Gardiner,  she 
was  presented  with  a  packet  of  sandwiches,  and 
charged  to  have  the  Pullman  porter  bring  her  a  cup  of 
bouillon.   The  next  day  Laura  received  a  postal  card. 

"Lunched  at  Portland  on  mince  pie,  which  agreed 
with  me  excellently,  thank  you!" 

Her  postal  cards  were  better  than  most  people's 
letters.  You  could  almost  see  them  sparkle.  The  sig- 
nature would  be  "Town  Pump"  or  something  equally 
luminous.  In  fact,  she  so  rarely  signed  her  own  name 
in  writing  to  us  that  when  asked  for  autographs  we 
were  posed.  "Town  Pump"  was  no  autograph  for  the 
author  of  the  "  Battle  Hymn"! 

There  was  another  mince  pie,  a  little,  pretty  one, 
which  she  saw  at  a  Papeterie  meeting,  the  last  summer 
of  her  life ;  saw,  coveted,  secreted,  with  her  hostess's  aid, 
and  smuggled  home.  Always  a  moderate  eater,  she 
never  could  be  made  to  see  that  age  demanded  a  careful 
diet.  "I  have  eaten  sausages  all  my  life,"  she  would 
say.  "They  have  always  agreed  with  me  perfectly ! "  In- 
deed, till  the  very  latest  years,  her  digestion  had  never 
failed  her.  It  was  in  the  eighties  that  she  said  to  one 
of  us,  "I  have  a  singular  sensation  that  I  have  never 
felt  before.  Do  you  think  it  might  possibly  be  indi- 
gestion?"   She  described  it,  and  it  was  indigestion. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  319 

We  are  reminded  of  a  contemporary  of  hers  who,  be- 
ing gently  rebuked  for  giving  rich  food  to  a  delicate 
grandchild,  replied  with  lofty  scorn,  "Stuff  and  non- 
sense!   Teach  his  stomach!" 

"November  8.  .  .  .  In  late  afternoon  some  visioning, 
i.e.,  lying  down  to  rest  and  asking  and  answering  ques- 
tions in  my  mind :  — 

"Question:  Can  anything  exceed  the  delight  of  the 
first  mutual  understanding  of  two  lovers? 

"Answer:  This  has  its  sacredness  and  its  place,  but 
even  better  is  the  large  affection  which  embraces  things 
human  and  divine,  God  and  man. 

"Question:  Are  Saviour  and  Saints  alive  now? 

"Answer:  If  you  believe  that  God  is  just,  they  must 
be.  They  gave  all  for  His  truth :  He  owes  them  immor- 
tality." 

"November  16.  Dear  Auntie  Francis's  wedding  day. 
I  think  it  was  in  1828.  My  sisters  and  I  were  brides- 
maids, my  brothers  groomsmen.  Dear  father,  very 
lame,  walked  up  with  a  cane  to  give  her  away.  Grandma 
Cutler  looked  much  discontented  with  the  match. 
Father  sent  the  pair  off  in  his  own  carriage,  with  four 
horses,  their  manes  and  tails  braided  with  white  rib- 
bons.  They  drove  part  of  the  way  to  Philadelphia." 

"November  28 To  Wellesley  College.  .  .  .  Wil- 
liam Butler  Yeats  lectured  on  the  revival  of  letters  in 
Ireland.  We  dined  with  him  afterwards  at  Miss  Haz- 
ard's house.  He  is  a  man  of  fiery  temperament,  with 
a  slight,  boyish  figure :  has  deep-set  blue  eyes  and  dark 
hair;  reminds  me  of  John  O'Sullivan  *  in  his  tempera- 

1  Hawthorne's  friend  of  the  Democratic  Review. 


320  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

ment;  is  certainly,  as  Grandpa  Ward  said  of  the  Red 
Revolutionists,  with  whom  he  dined  in  the  days  of  the 
French  Revolution,  'very  warm.'  " 

"November  29.  .  .  .  This  came  into  my  mind, 
apropos  of  reformers  generally:  'Dost  thou  so  carry  thy 
light  as  to  throw  it  upon  thyself,  or  upon  thy  theme?* 
This  appears  to  me  a  legitimate  question.  ..." 

"December  21.  Put  the  last  touches  to  my  verses 
for  Colonel  Higginson's  eightieth  birthday.  Maud  went 
with  me  to  the  celebration  held  by  the  Boston  Au- 
thors' Club  at  the  Colonial  Club,  Cambridge.  T.  W.  H. 
seemed  in  excellent  condition;  I  presided  as  usual. 
Bliss  Perry,  first  speaker,  came  rather  late,  but  made 
a  very  good  address.  Crothers  and  Dean  Hodges  fol- 
lowed, also  Clement.  Judge  Grant  read  a  simple,  strong 
poem,  very  good,  I  thought.  Then  came  my  jingle,  in- 
tended to  relieve  the  strain  of  the  occasion,  which  I 
think  it  did.  Maud  says  that  I  hit  the  bull's  eye;  per- 
haps I  did.  Then  came  a  pretty  invasion  of  mummers, 
bearing  the  gifts  of  the  Club,  a  fine  gold  watch  and 
a  handsome  bronze  lamp.  I  presented  these  without 
much  talk,  having  said  my  say  in  the  verses,  to  which, 
by  the  bye,  Colonel  H.  responded  with  some  comic 
personal  couplets,  addressed  to  myself." 

Here  is  the  "jingle." 

Friends!  I  would  not  ask  to  mingle 

This,  my  very  foolish  jingle, 
With  the  tributes  more  decorous  of  the  feast  we  hold  to-day; 

But  the  rhymes  came,  thick  and  swarming 

Just  like  bees  when  honey  's  forming, 
And  I  could  not  find  a  countersign  to  order  them  away. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  321 

For  around  this  sixteenth  lustre 

Of  our  friend's,  such  memories  cluster 
Of  the  days  that  lie  behind  it,  full  of  glories  and  regrets, 

Days  that  brought  their  toils  and  troubles, 

Lit  by  some  irradiant  bubbles 
Which  became  prismatic  opals  in  the  sun  that  never  sets. 

Picnics  have  we  held  together 

Sailing  in  the  summer  weather, 
Sitting  low  to  taste  the  chowder  on  the  sands  of  Newport  Bay, 

And  that  wonderful  charade,  sir, 

You  know  well,  sir,  that  you  made,  sir, 
When  so  many  years  of  earnest  did  invite  an  hour  of  play. 

He  shall  rank  now  with  the  sages 

Who  survive  in  classic  pages, 
English,  German,  French  and  Latin,  Greek,  so  weary  to  construe; 

Did  he  con  his  Epictetus 

Ere  he  came  to-night  to  greet  us? 
He,  aoristos  in  reverence,  among  the  learned  few. 

He  may  climb  no  more  the  mountain, 

But  he  still  employs  the  fountain 
Pen  from  whose  incisive  point  pure  Helicon  may  flow, 

And  his  "Yesterdays"  so  cheerful 

Charm  the  world  so  wild  and  tearful, 
And  the  Devil  calls  for  copy,  and  he  never  answers  "No." 

Do  I  speak  for  everybody, 

When  I  utter  this  rhapsody, 
To  induce  our  friend  to  keep  his  pace  in  following  Life's  incline; 

Never  slacken,  but  come  on,  sir, 

Eighty-four  years  I  have  won,  sir; 
Still  the  olive  branch  shall  bless  you,  still  the  laurel  wreath  entwine! 

So,  you  scribbling  youths  and  lasses, 

Elders,  too,  fill  high  your  glasses! 
Let  the  toast  be  Went  worth  Higginson,  of  fourscore  years  possest; 

If  the  Man  was  good  at  twenty, 

He  is  four  times  that  now,  ain't  he? 
We  declare  him  four  times  excellent,  and  better  than  his  best. 


322  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

The  early  days  of  1904  brought  "a  very  severe  bliz- 
zard. Sent  tea  to  the  hackmen  on  Dartmouth  Street 
corner." 

She  never  forgot  the  hackmen  in  severe  weather. 
"They  must  have  something  hot!"  and  tea  or  coffee 
would  be  despatched  to  the  shivering  men.  They  were 
all  her  friends;  the  Journal  has  many  allusions  to  "Mr. 
Dan"  Herlihy,  the  owner  of  the  cab  stand,  her  faith- 
ful helper  through  many  a  season. 

"January  27,  190^.  I  was  so  anxious  to  attend  to- 
day's [suffrage]  meeting,  and  so  afraid  of  Maud's  op- 
position to  my  going,  that  my  one  prayer  this  morn- 
ing was,  'Help  me.'  To  my  utter  surprise  she  did  not 
oppose,  but  went  with  me  and  remained  until  our  part 
of  the  hearing  was  finished,  when  she  carried  me  off.  I 
read  my  little  screed,  written  yesterday.  When  I  said, 
'Intelligence  has  no  sex,  no,  gentlemen,  nor  folly 
either!'  laughter  resounded,  as  I  meant  it  should.  .  .  ." 

"March  6.  In  the  evening  to  hear  'Elijah'  finely 
given.  Some  of  the  music  brought  back  to  me  the  des- 
olate scenery  of  Palestine.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  com- 
position. .  .  .  The  alto  was  frightened  at  first,  coming 
out  stronger  in  'Woe  unto  them,'  and  better  still  in 
'Oh,  rest  in  the  Lord.'  The  audience  seemed  to  me 
sleepy  and  cold.  I  really  led  the  applause  for  the  alto." 

"March  13 Wrote  to  John  A.  Beal,  of  Beal's 

Island,  offering  to  send  instructive  literature  to  that 
benighted  region,  where  three  mountebanks,  pretend- 
ing to  teach  religion,  robbed  the  simple  people  and 
excited  them  to  acts  of  frenzy." 

"March  17.   Mrs.  Allen's  funeral.  ...  I  had  a  mo- 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  323 

mentary  mental  vision  of  myself  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow,  with  a  splendid  champion  in  full  armor  walk- 
ing beside  me,  a  champion  sent  by  God  to  make  the 
dread  passage  easy  and  safe.  .  .  ." 

"April  2.  .  .  .  Learned  the  deaths  of  X.  and  Abby 
Morton  Diaz.  Poor  X.,  her  conduct  made  her  impos- 
sible, but  I  always  thought  she  would  send  flowers  to 
my  funeral.  Mrs.  Diaz  is  a  loss  —  a  high-strung,  pub- 
lic-spirited woman  with  an  heroic  history." 

"April  4-  To  the  carriage-drivers'  ball.  They  sent 
a  carriage  for  me  and  I  took  Mary,  the  maid.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Dan  was  waiting  outside  for  me,  as  was  another  of  the 
committee  who  troubled  me  much,  pulling  and  hauling 
me  by  one  arm,  very  superfluous.  My  entrance  was 
greeted  with  applause,  and  I  was  led  to  the  high  seats, 
where  were  two  aides  of  the  Governor,  Dewey  and 
White,  the  latter  of  whom  remembers  Governor  An- 
drew. The  opening  march  was  very  good.  I  was  taken 
in  to  supper,  as  were  the  two  officers  just  mentioned. 
We  had  a  cozy  little  talk.  I  came  away  at  about  10.30." 

"April  lit..  Mr.  Butcher  came  to  breakfast  at  nine 
o'clock.  He  told  me  about  the  man  Toynbee,  whom  he 
had  known  well.  He  talked  also  about  Greeks  and 
Hebrews,  the  animosity  of  race  which  kept  them  apart 
until  the  flourishing  of  the  Alexandrian  school,  when  the 
Jews  greedily  absorbed  the  philosophy  of  the  Greeks." 

This  was  Mr.  S.  H.  Butcher,  the  well-known  Greek 
scholar.  She  enjoyed  his  visit  greatly,  and  they 
talked  "high  and  disposedly"  of  things  classical  and 
modern. 

"May  28.  My  meeting  of  Women  Ministers.  They 


324  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

gathered  very  slowly  and  I  feared  that  it  would  prove 
a  failure,  but  soon  we  had  a  good  number.  Mary 
Graves  helped  me  very  much.  .  .  .  Afterwards  I  felt 
a  malignant  fatigue  and  depression,  not  caring  to  do 
anything." 

In  June  she  received  the  first  of  her  collegiate  honors, 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws,  conferred  by  Tufts  Col- 
lege. This  gratified  her  deeply,  and  she  describes  the 
occasion  at  length,  noting  that  she  was  "favored  with 
the  Tufts  yell  twice." 

"Lawrence  Evans  came,  and  Harry  Hall.  ...  I  read 
the  part  of  my  speech  about  which  I  had  hesitated, 
about  our  trying  to  put  an  end  to  the  Turkish  horrors. 
It  was  the  best  of  the  speech.  Seeking  divine  aid  be- 
fore I  made  my  remarks,  I  suddenly  said  to  myself, 
*  Christ,  my  brother!'  I  never  felt  it  before." 

"June  16.  Maud  would  not  allow  me  to  attend 
Quincy  Mansion  School  Commencement,  to  my  sin- 
cere regret.  The  fatigue  of  yesterday  was  excessive, 
and  my  dear  child  knew  that  another  such  occasion 
would  be  likely  to  make  me  ill.  Charles  G.  Ames  came, 
from  whom  I  first  learned  the  death  of  Mrs.  Cheney's 
sister,  Mary  Frank  Littlehale;  the  funeral  set  for  to- 
day. .  .  .  Dear  E.  D.  C.  seemed  gratified  at  seeing  me 
and  asked  me  to  say  a  few  words.  .  .  .  She  thanked 
me  very  earnestly  for  what  I  had  said,  and  I  at  last 
understood  why  I  had  not  been  allowed  to  go  to 
Quincy.  It  was  more  important  that  I  should  com- 
fort for  a  moment  the  bruised  heart  of  my  dear  friend 
than  that  I  should  be  a  guest  at  the  Quincy  Com- 
mencement." 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  325 

"June  29.  Heard  to  my  sorrow  of  the  death  of  de- 
lightful Sarah  Whitman.  Wrote  a  little  screed  for 
'Woman's  Journal'  which  I  sent.  ..." 

In  early  July,  she  went  to  Concord  for  a  memorial 
meeting  in  honor  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

"July  11.  .  . .  Alice  Blackwell,  some  days  ago,  wrote 
beseeching  me  to  write  to  President  Roosevelt,  beg- 
ging him  to  do  something  for  the  Armenians.  I  said 
to  myself,  'No,  I  won't;  I  am  too  tired  and  have  done 
enough.'  Yesterday's  sermon  gave  me  a  spur,  and  this 
morning  I  have  writ  the  President  a  long  letter,  to  the 
effect  desired.  God  grant  that  it  may  have  some  re- 
sult!" 

"July  17.  I  despaired  of  being  able  to  write  a  poem 
as  requested  for  the  Kansas  semi-centennial  celebra- 
tion in  October,  but  one  line  came  to  me:  'Sing  us  a 
song  of  the  grand  old  time ! '  and  the  rest  followed.  .  .  ." 

This  poem  is  printed  in  "At  Sunset." 

"  July  21.  Writ  ...  to  Mrs.  Martha  J.  Hosmer,  of 
Rock  Point,  Oregon,  who  wrote  me  a  kindly  meant 
letter,  exhorting  me  to  'seek  the  truth  and  live,'  and 
to  write  to  a  Mrs.  Helen  Wilman,  eighty-five  years  old 
and  the  possessor  of  some  wonderful  knowledge  which 
will  help  me  to  renew  my  youth.  .  .  ." 

"September  25.  I  could  not  go  to  church  to-day, 
fearing  to  increase  my  cold,  and  not  wishing  to  leave 
my  dear  family,  so  rarely  united  now.  Have  been  read- 
ing Abbe  Loisy's  'Autour  d'un  petit  Livre,'  which  is 
an  apologetic  vindication  of  his  work  'L'Evangile  et 
l'figlise,'  which  has  been  put  upon  the  Index  [Ex- 
purgatorius].    I  feel  sensibly  all  differences  between 


326  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

his  apologetic  wobbly  vindication  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,  and  the  sound  and  firm  faith  of  Thomas  Hill." 
"October  2.  Mr.  Fitzhugh  Whitehouse,  having  left 
here  a  copy  of  my  '  From  Sunset  Ridge '  for  me  to  fur- 
nish with  a  'sentiment,'  I  indited  the  following:  — 

From  Sunset  Ridge  we  view  the  evening  sky, 
Blood  red  and  gold,  defeat  and  victory; 
If  in  the  contest  we  have  failed  or  won, 
'T  was  ours  to  live,  to  strive  and  so  pass  on. 

"October  5.  ...  To  Peace  Congress,  where  Albert 
Smiley  was  presiding.  A  wonderful  feature  came  in  the 
person  of  a  Hindu  religionist,  who  came  to  plead  the 
cause  of  the  Thibetan  Llama.  He  said  that  the  Thi- 
betans are  not  fighting  people:  are  devoted  to  reli- 
gious contemplation,  prayer,  and  spiritual  life.  He 
spoke  valorously  of  the  religions  in  the  East  as  by  far 
the  most  ancient.  'You  call  us  heathen,  but  we  don't 
call  you  heathen';  a  good  point.  He  concluded  by 
giving  to  the  assemblage  a  benediction  in  the  fashion  of 
his  own  religion.  It  was  chanted  in  a  sweet,  slightly 
musical  strain,  ending  with  the  repetition  of  a  word 
which  he  said  meant  'peace.'  So  much  was  said  about 
peace  that  I  had  to  ask  leave  for  a  word,  and  spoke  of 
justice  as  that  without  which  peace  cannot  be  had.  .  .  . 
I  said:  — 

"Mr.  President  and  dear  friends,  assembled  in  the 
blessed  cause  of  Peace,  let  me  remind  you  that  there 
is  one  word  even  more  holy  than  peace,  namely,  jus- 
tice. It  is  anterior  in  our  intellectual  perceptions.  The 
impulse  which  causes  men  to  contend  against  injus- 
tice is  a  divine  one,  deeply  implanted  in  the  human 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  327 

breast.  It  would  be  wrong  to  attempt  to  thwart  it. 
I  hope  that  The  Hague  Tribunal  will  bear  in  mind  that 
it  is  sacredly  pledged  to  maintain  justice.  The  bright- 
est intellects,  the  most  profound  study,  should  be  de- 
voted to  the  promotion  of  this  end.'  The  Greek  bishop 
met  me  in  the  ante-room  and  said,  'We  always  pray 
for  you.'  .  .  ." 

"October  9.  I  have  felt  more  strongly  than  ever  of 
late  that  God  is  the  only  comforter.  .  .  .  These  great 
serious  things  were  always  present  to  work  for  in  days 
in  which  I  exerted  myself  to  amuse  others  and  myself 
too.  It  is  quite  true  that  I  have  never  given  up  serious 
thought  and  study,  but  I  have  not  made  the  serious 
use  of  my  powers  which  I  ought  to  have  made.  The 
Peace  Congress  has  left  upon  my  mind  a  strong  im- 
pression of  what  the  lovers  of  humanity  could  accom- 
plish if  they  were  all  and  always  in  earnest.  I  seem  to 
hope  for  a  fresh  consecration,  for  opportunities  truly 
to  serve,  and  for  the  continuance  of  that  gift  of  the 
word  which  is  sometimes  granted  me." 

"November  12.  I  to  attend  meeting  of  Council  of 
Jewish  Women ;  say  something  regarding  educa- 
tion. .  .  . 

"I  was  warmly  received  and  welcomed,  and  recited 
my  'Battle  Hymn'  by  special  request.  This  last  gave 
me  an  unexpected  thrill  of  satisfaction.  The  president 
said:  'Dear  Mrs.  Howe,  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  wound 
us.'  I  had  feared  that  the  last  verse  might  trouble 
them,  but  it  did  not." 

"November  19.  Was  busy  trying  to  arrange  bills  and 
papers  so  as  to  go  to  Gardiner  to-morrow  with  my 


328  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Richards  son-in-law,  when  in  the  late  afternoon  Rosa- 
lind told  me  that  dear  noble  Ednah  Cheney  had  died. 
This  caused  me  much  distress.  My  first  word  was: 
'The  house  of  God  is  closed!  Such  a  friend  is  indeed  a 
sanctuary  to  which  one  might  retire  for  refuge  from 
all  mean  and  unworthy  things.' 

"A  luminous  intellect,  unusual  powers  of  judgment 
and  of  sympathy  as  well.  She  has  been  a  tower  of 
strength  to  me.  I  sent  word  by  telephone  to  Charles 
G.  Ames,  begging  that  her  hymn  might  be  sung  at 
church  to-morrow.  .  .  ." 

"November  21.  Dear  E.  D.  C.'s  funeral.  ...  I  spoke 
of  her  faith  in  immortality,  which  I  remember  as  un- 
wavering. I  said:  'No,  that  lustrous  soul  is  not  gone 
down  into  darkness.  It  has  ascended  to  a  higher  light, 
to  which  our  best  affections  and  inspirations  may 
aspire.'" 

"December  25.  .  .  .  Got  out  my  dearest  little  Sam- 
my's picture  and  placed  it  on  my  mantelshelf.  [He 
was  a  Christmas  child.]  Maud  and  I  went  to  the 
Oratorio,  which  we  enjoyed.  ...  I  wondered  whether 
the  heavenly  ones  could  not  enjoy  the  beautiful  music." 

"December  31.    A  little  festivity.  ...  At  supper  I 

was  called  upon  for  a  toast,  and  after  a  moment's 

thought,  responded  thus :  — 

"God  grant  us  all  to  thrive, 
And  for  a  twelvemonth  to  be  alive, 
And  every  bachelor  to  wive; 
And  many  blessings  on  the  head 
Of  our  dear  Presidential  Ted. 

"We  saw  the  year  out;  a  year  of  grace  to  me,  if  ever 
I  had  one." 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  329 

The  new  year  (1905)  found  her  in  full  health  and 
activity.   On  its  first  day  she  writes:  — 

"I  begin  this  book  by  thanking  God  most  deeply 
that  He  has  permitted  me  to  see  the  dawn  of  this  New 
Year,  and  by  praying  that  I  may  not  wilfully  waste 
one  of  its  precious  days.  I  am  now  about  half  through 
my  eighty-sixth  year  and  must  feel  no  surprise  if  the 
mandate  to  remove  should  come  suddenly  or  at  any 
time.  But  while  I  live,  dear  Lord,  let  me  truly  live  in 
energetic  thought  and  rational  action.  Bless,  I  pray 
Thee,  my  own  dear  family,  my  blessed  country, 
Christendom,  and  all  mankind.  This  is  my  daily 
prayer  and  I  record  it  here.  Is  it  amiss  that  in  this 
prayer  my  own  people  come  first?  No!  for  family 
affection  is  the  foundation  of  all  normal  human  rela- 
tions. We  begin  with  the  Heavenly  Father  and  open 
out  to  the  whole  human  brotherhood." 

"  January  2.  Had  an  anxious  time  hunting  after  my 
Hawthorne  screed  to  read  this  afternoon  before  the 
New  England  Woman's  Club.  In  my  perplexity  I 
said:  'Lord,  I  do  not  deserve  to  have  You  help  me 
find  it';  but  the  answer  seemed  to  come  thus:  'My 
help  is  of  grace  and  not  according  to  desert';  and  I 
found  it  at  once  where  I  ought  to  have  looked  for  it 
at  first.  .  .  ." 

"January  20.  .  .  .  You  can't  do  good  with  a  bad 
action."     [Apropos  of  the  shot  fired  at  the  Czar.] 

"The  reason  why  a  little  knowledge  is  dangerous  is 
that  your  conceit  of  it  may  make  you  refuse  to  learn 
more." 

She  was  writing  a  paper  on  Mrs.  Stowe  and  "Uncle 


330  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Tom's  Cabin,"  and  worked  hard  over  it.  The  pace 
began  to  tell. 

She  spoke  for  the  friends  of  Russian  freedom,  "a 
warm  speech,  almost  without  preparation.  I  knew  that 
I  should  find  my  inspiration  in  the  occasion  itself.  I 
had  almost  a  spasm  of  thankfulness  to  Almighty  God 
for  the  opportunity  to  speak  for  such  a  cause  at  such 
a  time." 

At  the  suffrage  hearing  soon  after,  she  "spoke  of  the 
force  of  inertia  as  divinely  ordained  and  necessary,  but 
ordained,  too,  to  be  overcome  by  the  onward  impulse 
which  creates  worlds,  life,  and  civilization.  Said  it  was 
this  inertia  which  opposed  suffrage,  the  dread  of  change 
inherent  in  masses,  material  or  moral,  etc.,  etc." 

Among  her  winter  delights  were  the  "Longy"  con- 
certs of  instrumental  music.  She  writes  of  one :  — 

"Was  carried  away  by  the  delight  of  the  music  — 
all  wind  instruments.  A  trio  of  Handel  for  bassoon 
and  two  oboes  was  most  solid  and  beautiful.  ...  I 
could  think  of  nothing  but  Shakespeare's  'Tempest' 
and  'Midsummer  Night's  Dream.'  The  thought  that 
God  had  set  all  human  life  and  work  to  music  over- 
powered me,  and  coming  home  I  had  a  rhapsody  of 
thanksgiving  for  the  wonderful  gift.  ..." 

The  next  day  came  an  entertainment  in  aid  of  At- 
lanta University  and  Calhoun  School;  she  "enjoyed 
this  exceedingly,  especially  the  plantation  songs,  which 
are  of  profoundest  pathos,  mixed  with  overpowering 
humor.  It  was  pleasant,  too,  to  see  the  audience  in 
which  descendants  of  the  old  anti-slavery  folk  formed 
quite  a  feature.  I  had  worked  hard  at  the  screed  which 


MRS.    HOWE 
From  a  photograph  by  Underwood,  1905 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  331 

was,  I  think,  good.  Heard  interesting  reports  of  mis- 
sion work  in  our  entire  South." 

At  the  Authors'  Club  she  met  Israel  Zangwill,  who 
was  "rather  indifferent"  when  introduced  to  her.  She 
thought  he  probably  knew  nothing  about  her,  and 
adds,  — 

"It  is  good  perhaps  to  be  taken  down,  now  and  then." 

In  March  she  attended  a  hearing  in  connection  with 
the  School  Board.  "The  chair  most  courteously  in- 
vited me  to  speak,  saying,  'There  is  here  a  venerable 
lady  who  will  hardly  be  likely  to  come  here  again  for 
the  present  discussion,  so  I  shall  give  her  the  remain- 
ing time.'  Whereupon  I  leaped  into  the  arena  and  said 
my  say." 

She  had  been  for  some  time  toiling  over  a  paper  on 
the  "Noble  Women  of  the  Civil  War,"  finding  it  hard 
and  fatiguing  work.   On  April  5  she  writes :  — 

"At  12  m.  I  had  finished  my  screed  on  the  'Noble 
Women  of  the  Civil  War'  which  has  been  my  night- 
mare ever  since  March  24,  when  I  began  it,  almost  de- 
spairing of  getting  it  done.  ...  I  have  written  very 
carefully  and  have  had  some  things  to  say  which  may, 
I  hope,  do  good.  I  can  now  take  up  many  small  tasks 
which  have  had  to  give  way  to  this  one.  ..." 

"April  9.  The  Greek  celebration.  The  Greek  Papa, 
in  full  costume,  intoned  the  Doxology  and  the  assem- 
bly all  sang  solemn  anthems.  Michael  introduced  me 
first.  My  speech  was  short,  but  had  been  carefully  pre- 
pared. At  the  request  of  the  Papa  I  said  at  the  end: 
' Zeto  ton  Ellenihon  ethnos.'  My  speech  and  Greek 
sentence  were  much  applauded.  A  young  Greek  lady 


332  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

presented  me  with  a  fine  bouquet  of  white  carnations 
with  blue  and  white  ribbons,  the  colors  of  Greece. 
Sanborn  read  from  dear  Chev's  letters  of  1825.  Mi- 
chael spoke  at  great  length,  with  great  vehemence  and 
gesticulation.  I  understood  many  words,  but  could 
only  guess  at  the  general  drift.  I  imagine  that  it  was 
very  eloquent,  as  he  was  much  applauded." 

"April  30.  Lorin  Deland  called  to  talk  about  the 
verses  which  I  am  to  write  and  read  at  his  theatre. 
The  thought  of  Cassandra  seized  me.  She,  coming  to 
the  house  of  the  Atridae,  had  a  vision  of  its  horrors;  I, 
coming  to  this  good  theatre,  have  a  vision  of  the  good 
things  which  have  been  enjoyed  there  and  which  shall 
still  be  enjoyed.  Wrote  down  some  five  or  six  lines, 
'lest  I  forget.'" 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Deland  were  among  her  best  friends 
of  the  second  generation.  Indeed,  there  was  such 
a  sympathy  and  comprehension  between  her  and 
"Margaret"  that  the  latter  playfully  declared  herself 
a  daughter  abandoned  in  infancy,  and  was  wont  to  sign 
herself,  "Your  doorstep  Brat"! 

"May  5.  ...  .  'Without  religion  you  will  never  know 
the  real  beauty  and  glory  of  life;  you  will  perceive  the 
discords,  but  miss  the  harmony;  will  see  the  defects, 
but  miss  the  good  in  all  things.' " 

In  these  years  an  added  burden  was  laid  upon  her, 
in  the  general  and  affectionate  desire  for  her  presence 
on  all  manner  of  occasions.  The  firemen  must  have 
her  at  their  ball,  the  Shoe  and  Leather  Trade  at  their 
banquet,  the  Paint  and  Oils  Association  at  their  din- 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  333 

ner.  Their  festivities  would  not  be  complete  without 
her;  she  loved  them,  went  to  their  parties,  had  the 
right  word  to  say,  and  came  home  happy,  her  arms  full 
of  flowers. 

It  was  all  beautiful  and  heart-warming,  but  it  had 
to  be  paid  for.  May  10  brought  the  punishment  for 
this  season. 

"Annual  Woman  Suffrage  supper.  I  was  to  have 
spoken  at  this  occasion  and  to  have  recited  the  poem 
which  I  wrote  for  Castle  Square  Theatre,  but  it  was 
otherwise  ordained.  I  rose  as  usual,  my  head  a  little 
misty.  A  mighty  blow  of  vertigo  seized  me.  .  .  .  The 
elder  Wesselhoeft  pronounced  it  a  'brain  fag,'  not 
likely  to  have  serious  results,  but  emphatically  a  warn- 
ing not  to  abuse  further  my  nervous  strength.  Got  up 
in  afternoon  and  finished  'Villa  Claudia';  was  bitterly 
sad  at  disappointing  the  suffragists  and  Deland." 

Dr.  Wesselhoeft  was  asked  on  this  occasion  why,  at 
her  age,  so  severe  an  attack  as  this  had  not  resulted 
in  paralysis.  "Because,"  he  replied,  "she  brought  to 
receive  it  the  strength  of  forty  years  of  age!" 

Sure  enough,  the  next  day  she  felt  as  if  her  "nerv- 
ous balance  was  very  well  restored,"  and  in  a  week  she 
was  at  work  again. 

"May  18.  .  .  .  In  the  evening  had  word  of  a  Deco- 
ration Day  poem  needed.   At  once  tried  some  lines." 

"May  19.  Doubted  much  of  my  poem,  but  wrote 
it,  spending  most  of  the  working  hours  over  it;  wrote 
and  rewrote,  corrected  again  and  again.  Julia  Rich- 
ards mailed  it  at  about  4  p.m.  .  .  .  Just  as  I  went  to  bed 
I  remembered  that  in  the  third  verse  of  my  poem  I  had 


334  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

used  the  words  'tasks'  and  'erect'  as  if  they  rhymed. 
This  troubled  me  a  good  deal.  My  prayer  was,  'God 
help  the  fool.'" 

"May  20.  My  trouble  of  mind  about  the  deficient 
verse  woke  me  at  6.30  a.m.  I  tossed  about  and  won- 
dered how  I  could  lie  still  until  7.30,  my  usual  time  for 
rising.  The  time  passed  somehow.  I  could  not  think  of 
any  correction  to  make  in  my  verse.  Hoped  that  I 
should  find  that  I  had  not  written  it  as  I  feared.  When 
I  came  to  look  at  it,  there  it  was.  Instantly  a  line  with 
a  proper  rhyme  presented  itself  to  my  mind.  To  add 
to  my  trouble  I  had  lost  the  address  to  which  I  had 
sent  the  poem.  My  granddaughter,  Julia  Richards, 
undertook  to  interview  the  Syndicate  by  long-dis- 
tance telephone,  and,  failing  this,  to  telegraph  the  new 
line  for  me.  So  I  left  all  in  her  hands.  When  I  re- 
turned, she  met  me  with  a  smile  and  said,  'It  is  all 
right,  Grandmother.'  She  had  gone  out,  found  a  New 
York  directory,  guessed  at  the  Syndicate,  got  the  cor- 
respondent, and  put  her  in  possession  of  the  new  line. 
I  was  greatly  relieved.  I  have  been  living  lately  with 
work  running  after  me  all  the  time.  Must  now  have 
a  breathing  spell.  Have  still  my  'Simplicity'  screed 
to  complete." 

The  Authors'  Club  celebrated  her  eighty-sixth  birth- 
day by  a  charming  festival,  modelled  on  the  Welsh 
Eistedfodd,  "at  which  every  bard  of  that  nation 
brought  four  lines  of  verse  —  a  sort  of  four-leaved 
clover  —  to  his  chief."  *    Sixty  quatrains  made  what 

1  T.  W.  Higginson,  The  Outlook,  January  26,  1907. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  335 

she  calls  "an  astonishing  testimonial  of  regard."  Colo- 
nel Higginson,  who  presided  most  charmingly,  read 
many  of  these  tributes  aloud,  and  the  Birthday  Queen 
responded  in  a  rhyme  scribbled  hastily  the  day  be- 
fore. Here  are  a  few  of  the  tributes,  together  with  her 
"reply":- 

EISTEDFODD 

Each  bard  of  Wales,  who  roams  the  kingdom  o'er 
Each  year  salutes  his  chief  with  stanzas  four; 
Behold  us  here,  each  bearing  verse  in  hand 
To  greet  the  four-leaved  clover  of  our  band. 

Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson. 

FIVE  O'CLOCK  WITH  THE  IMMORTALS 

The  Sisters  Three  who  spin  our  fate 
Greet  Julia  Ward,  who  comes  quite  late; 
How  Greek  wit  flies !  They  scream  with  glee, 
Drop  thread  and  shears,  and  make  the  tea. 

E.  H.  Clement. 

If  man  could  change  the  universe 
By  force  of  epigrams  in  verse, 
He'd  smash  some  idols,  I  allow, 
But  who  would  alter  Mrs.  Howe? 

Robert  Grant. 

Dot  oldt  Fader  Time  must  be  cutting  some  dricks, 
Vhen  he  calls  our  goot  Bresident's  age  eighty-six. 
An  octogeranium !   Who  would  suppose? 
My  dear  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe  der  time  goes ! 

Yawcob  Strauss  (Charles  Follen  Adams). 

You,  who  are  of  the  spring, 
To  whom  Youth's  joys  must  cling. 
May  all  that  Love  can  give 
Beguile  you  long  to  live  — 

Our  Queen  of  Hearts. 

Louise  Chandler  Moulton. 


336  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

MRS.  HOWE'S  REPLY 

Why,  bless  you,  I  ain't  nothing,  nor  nobody,  nor  much, 
If  you  look  in  your  Directory,  you  '11  find  a  thousand  such; 
I  walk  upon  the  level  ground,  I  breathe  upon  the  air, 
I  study  at  a  table,  and  reflect  upon  a  chair. 

I  know  a  casual  mixture  of  the  Latin  and  the  Greek, 
I  know  the  Frenchman's  parlez-vous,  and  how  the  Germans  speak; 
Well  can  I  add,  and  well  subtract,  and  say  twice  two  is  four, 
But  of  those  direful  sums  and  proofs  remember  nothing  more. 

I  wrote  a  pretty  book  one  time,  and  then  I  wrote  a  play, 
And  a  friend  who  went  to  see  it  said  she  fainted  right  away. 
Then  I  got  up  high  to  speculate  upon  the  Universe, 
And  folks  who  heard  me  found  themselves  no  better  and  no  worse. 

Yes,  I've  had  a  lot  of  birthdays  and  I'm  growing  very  old, 
That 's  why  they  make  so  much  of  me,  if  once  the  truth  were  told. 
And  I  love  the  shade  in  summer,  and  in  winter  love  the  sun, 
And  I'm  just  learning  how  to  live,  my  wisdom  's  just  begun. 

Don't  trouble  more  to  celebrate  this  natal  day  of  mine, 
But  keep  the  grasp  of  fellowship  which  warms  us  more  than  wine. 
Let  us  thank  the  lavish  hand  that  gives  world  beauty  to  our  eyes, 
And  bless  the  days  that  saw  us  young,  and  years  that  make  us  wise. 

"May  27.  My  eighty-sixth  birthday.  I  slept  rather 
late,  yesterday  having  been  eminently  a  'boot-and- 
saddle'  day.  .  .  .  The  Greeks,  mostly  working-people, 
sent  me  a  superb  leash  of  roses  with  a  satin  ribbon 
bearing  a  Greek  inscription.  My  visitors  were  numer- 
ous, many  of  them  the  best  friends  that  time  has  left 
me.  T.  W.  H.  was  very  dear.  My  dear  ones  of  the 
household  bestirred  themselves  to  send  flowers,  ac- 
cording to  my  wishes,  to  the  Children's  Hospital  and 
to  Charles  Street  Jail." 

"May  28.  ...  A  great  box  of  my  birthday  flowers 
ornamented  the  pulpit  of  the  church.  They  were  to  be 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  337 

distributed  afterwards  to  the  Sunday-School  children, 
some  to  the  Primary  Teachers'  Association;  a  bunch 
of  lilies  of  the  valley  to  Reverend  Hayward's  funeral 
to-morrow.  I  suddenly  bethought  me  of  Padre 
Roberto,  and  with  dear  Laura's  help  sent  him  a  box 
of  flowers  for  his  afternoon  service,  with  a  few  lines  of 
explanation,  to  which  I  added  the  motto : '  Unus  deus, 
una  fides,  unum  baptismal  This  filled  full  the  cup  of 
my  satisfaction  regarding  the  disposal  of  the  flowers. 
They  seemed  to  me  such  sacred  gifts  that  I  could  not 
bear  merely  to  enjoy  them  and  see  them  fade.  Now 
they  will  not  fade  for  me." 

Among  the  many  "screeds"  written  this  season  was 
one  on  "The  Value  of  Simplicity,"  which  gave  her 
much  trouble.  She  takes  it  to  pieces  and  rewrites  it, 
and  afterwards  is  "much  depressed;  no  color  in  any- 
thing." From  Gardiner  she  "writes  to  Sanborn"  for 
the  Horatian  lines  she  wishes  to  quote.  ("Whenever," 
she  said  once  to  Colonel  Higginson,  "I  want  to  find 
out  about  anything  difficult,  I  always  write  to  San- 
born!" "Of  course!"  replied  Higginson.  "We  all  do!" 
At  this  writing  the  same  course  is  pursued,  there  is 
reason  to  believe,  by  many  persons  in  many  countries.) 

It  is  remembered  that  in  these  days  when  she  was 
leaving  Gardiner  at  the  last  moment  she  handed  Laura 
a  note.  It  read,  "Be  sure  to  rub  the  knee  thoroughly 
night  and  morning!" 

"Why,"  she  was  asked,  "did  I  not  have  this  a  week 
ago?"  l 

"I  hate  to  be  rubbed!"  she  said. 


338  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"July  1.  Oak  Glen.  .  .  .  Found  a  typed  copy  of  my 
'Rest'  sermon,  delivered  in  our  own  church,  twelve 
years  ago.  Surely  preaching  has  been  my  greatest 
privilege  and  in  it  I  have  done  some  of  my  best  work." 

"July  2.  Unusually  depressed  at  waking.  Feared 
that  I  might  be  visited  by  'senile  melancholia'  against 
which  I  shall  pray  with  all  my  might.  .  .  .  Began 
Plato's 'Laws.'" 

Plato  seems  to  have  acted  as  a  tonic,  for  on  the  same 
day  she  writes  to  her  daughter-in-law,  expressing  her 
joy  in  "Harry's"  latest  honor,  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Laws  conferred  by  Harvard  College :  — 

To  Mrs.  Henry  Marion  Howe 

Oak  Glen,  July  2,  1905. 
Thanks  very  much  for  your  good  letter,  giving  me 
such  a  gratifying  account  of  the  doings  at  Harvard 
on  Commencement  Day.  I  feel  quite  moved  at  the 
thought  of  my  dear  son's  receiving  this  well-merited 
honor  from  his  alma  mater.  It  shows,  among  other 
things,  how  amply  he  has  retrieved  his  days  of  boyish 
mischief.  This  is  just  what  his  dear  father  did.  I 
think  you  must  both  have  had  a  delightful  time.  How 
did  our  H.  M.  H.  look  sitting  up  in  such  grave  com- 
pany? I  hope  he  has  not  lost  his  old  twinkle.  I  am 
very  proud  and  glad.  .  .  . 

She  was  indeed  proud  of  all  her  son's  honors;  of  any 
success  of  child  or  grandchild;  yet  she  would  pretend 
to  furious  jealousy.  "I  see  your  book  is  praised,  Sir!" 
(or,  "Madam!")   "It  probably  does  not  deserve  it. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  339 

H  'm !  nobody  praises  my  books ! "  etc.,  etc.  And  all  the 
time  her  face  so  shining  with  pleasure  and  tenderness 
under  the  sternly  bended  brows  that  the  happy  child 
needed  no  other  praise  from  any  one. 

11  July  23.  ...  I  feel  to-day  the  isolation  consequent 
upon  my  long  survival  of  the  threescore  and  ten  ap- 
portioned as  the  term  of  human  life.  Brothers  and 
sisters,  friends  and  fellow-workers,  many  are  now  in 
the  silent  land.  I  am  praying  for  some  good  work,  pay- 
ing work,  so  that  I  may  efficiently  help  relatives  who 
need  help,  and  good  causes  whose  demand  for  aid  is 
constant.  ..." 

"July  24-.  To-day  Harry  and  Alice  Hall  have  left 
me  with  their  two  dear  children.  I  have  had  much  de- 
light with  baby  Frances,  four  months  old.  ...  I  pray 
that  I  may  be  able  to  help  these  children.  I  looked  for- 
ward to  their  visit  as  a  kindness  to  them  and  their 
parents,  but  it  has  been  a  great  kindness  to  me.  .  .  ." 

"September  5.  Some  bright  moments  to-day.  At 
my  prayer  a  thought  of  the  divine  hand  reaching  down 
over  the  abyss  of  evil  to  rescue  despairing  souls!  ..." 

"September  19.  Dear  Flossy  and  Harry  left.  I  shall 
miss  them  dreadfully.  She  has  taken  care  of  me  these 
many  weeks  and  has  been  most  companionable  and 
affectionate.  My  dear  boy  was  as  ever  very  sweet 
and  kind.  .  .  ." 

"  September  22.  Have  puzzled  much  about  my  prom- 
ised screed  for  the  '  Cosmopolitan '  on  *  What  would  be 
the  Best  Gift  to  the  People  of  the  Country?'  As  I  got 
out  of  bed  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  as  'the  glory  of 
having  promoted  recognition  of  human  brotherhood.' 


340  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

This  must  include  'Justice  to  Women.'  I  meant  to 
tackle  the  theme  at  once,  but  after  breakfast  a  poem 
came  to  me  in  the  almost  vulgar  question,  '  Does  your 
Mother  know  you're  out?'  I  had  to  write  this,  also 
a  verse  or  two  in  commemoration  of  Frederic  L. 
Knowles,  a  member  of  our  Authors'  Club,  who  has 
just  passed  away." 

"September  25.  ...  I  must  have  got  badly  chilled 
this  morning,  for  my  right  hand  almost  refuses  to 
guide  the  pen.  I  tried  several  times  to  begin  a  short 
note  to  David  Hall,  but  could  not  make  distinct  let- 
ters. Then  I  forced  myself  to  pen  some  rough  draft 
and  now  the  pen  goes  better,  but  not  yet  quite  right. 
I  had  the  same  experience  last  winter  once.  I  suppose 
that  I  have  overtired  my  brain;  it  is  a  warning.  .  .  ." 

"October  5.  ...  I  had  a  moment  of  visioning,  in 
which  I  seemed  to  see  Christ  on  the  cross  refusing  to 
drink  the  vinegar  and  gall,  and  myself  to  reach  up  a 
golden  cup  containing  'the  love  pledge  of  humanity.' 
Coming  home  I  scrawled  the  verses  before  lying  down 
to  rest."  1 

"October  9.  After  a  week  of  painful  anxiety  I  learn 
to-day  that  my  screed  for  the  'Cosmopolitan'  is  ac- 
cepted. I  felt  so  persuaded  to  the  contrary  that  I 
delayed  to  open  the  envelope  until  I  had  read  all  my 
other  letters.  .  .  ." 

"October  25.  Meeting  of  Boston  Authors'  Club.  .  .  . 
Worked  all  the  morning  at  sorting  my  letters  and 
papers.  .  .  .  Laura,  Maud,  and  I  drove  out  to  Cam- 

1  These  verses  are  printed  in  At  Sunset,  under  the  title  of  "Human- 
ity," and  at  the  head  of  chapter  xi  of  this  volume.  2 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET  341 

bridge.    I  had  worked  hard  all  the  morning,  but  had 

managed  to  put  together  a  scrap  of  rhyme  in  welcome 

of  Mark  Twain.    A  candle  was  lit   for  me  to  read 

by,  and  afterwards  M.  T.  jumped  upon  a  chair  and 

made  fun,  some  good,  some  middling,  for  some  three 

quarters  of  an  hour.    The  effect  of  my  one  candle 

lighting  up  his  curly  hair  was  good  and  my  rhyme 

was  well  received. 

"Mark  the  gracious,  welcome  guest, 
Master  of  heroic  jest; 
He  who  cheers  man's  dull  abodes 
With  the  laughter  of  the  gods; 
To  the  joyless  ones  of  earth 
Sounds  the  reveille  of  mirth. 

"  Well  we  meet,  to  part  with  pain, 
But  ne'er  shall  he  and  we  be  Twain." 

"December  5.  Gardiner,  Maine.  On  coming  to 
breakfast  found  a  note  from  dearest  Maud,  saying  that 
she  would  sail  this  day  for  Spain.  Was  much  overcome 
by  this  intelligence,  yet  felt  that  it  was  on  the  whole 
best.  The  day  passed  rather  heavily,  the  relish  seemed 
gone  from  everything." 

"December  6.  Boston.  .  .  .  Reaching  home  I  lay 
down  to  rest,  but  the  feeling  of  Maud's  departure  so 
overpowered  me  that  I  got  up  and  went  about,  crying 
out:  'I  can't  stand  it!'  I  soon  quieted  down,  being 
comforted  by  my  dear  Laura,  Julia,  and  Betty,  but 
could  not  sleep  until  bedtime,  when  I  slept  soundly." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"THE  SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND   SERENE" 

1906-1907;  aet.  87-88 

HYMN  FOR  THE  INTERNATIONAL  CONGRESS  OF 
RELIGIOUS  LIBERALS 

Held  in  Boston,  1907 

Hail!  Mount  of  God,  whereon  with  reverent  feet 
The  messengers  of  many  nations  meet; 
Diverse  in  feature,  argument,  and  creed, 
One  in  their  errand,  brothers  in  their  need. 

Not  in  unwisdom  are  the  limits  drawn 
That  give  far  lands  opposing  dusk  and  dawn; 
One  sun  makes  bright  the  all-pervading  air, 
One  fostering  spirit  hovers  everywhere. 

So  with  one  breath  may  fervent  souls  aspire, 
With  one  high  purpose  wait  the  answering  fire. 
Be  this  the  prayer  that  other  prayers  controls,  — 
That  light  divine  may  visit  human  souls. 

The  worm  that  clothes  the  monarch  spins  no  flaw, 
The  coral  builder  works  by  heavenly  law; 
Who  would  to  Conscience  rear  a  temple  pure 
Must  prove  each  stone  and  seal  it,  sound  and  sure. 

Upon  one  steadfast  base  of  truth  we  stand, 
Love  lifts  her  sheltering  walls  on  either  hand; 
Arched  o'er  our  head  is  Hope's  transcendent  dome, 
And  in  the  Father's  heart  of  hearts  our  home. 

J.  W.  H. 

"I  pray  for  many  things  this  year.  For  myself,  I 
ask  continued  health  of  mind  and  body,  work,  useful, 
honorable,  remunerative,  as  it  shall  please  God  to 
send;  for  my  dear  family,  work  of  the  same  description 
with  comfortable  wages,  faith  in  God,  and  love  to 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    343 

each  other;  for  my  country,  that  she  may  keep  her 
high  promise  to  mankind;  for  Christendom,  that  it 
may  become  more  Christ-like;  for  the  struggling  na- 
tionalities, that  they  may  attain  to  peace  and  justice." 
"Such  a  wonderful  dream  in  the  early  morning.  I 
was  in  some  rural  region  alone;  the  clear  blue  sky  was 
over  my  head.  I  looked  up  and  said,  'I  am  fed  from 
God's  table.  I  am  sheltered  under  His  roof.'  While 
I  still  felt  this  joy,  a  lone  man,  passing  by,  broke  into 
a  complaint  on  the  hardness  of  things.  I  wanted  in  my 
dream  to  call  him  back,  but  he  passed  too  rapidly.  I 
still  see  in  my  'mind's  eye'  that  blue  sky  and  the  lone 
man  passing  by,  I  still  recall  the  thrill  of  that  medi- 
tation, literally  in  Dreamland,  as  I  was  quite  asleep 
when  it  visited  me.  .  .  ." 

The  great  event  of  this  winter  was  a  trip  to  Balti- 
more for  a  Woman  Suffrage  Convention. 

"February  Jp.  I  had  not  been  able  to  think  of  any- 
thing to  say  in  Baltimore,  but  this  morning  it  seemed 
to  come  to  me.  I  have  just  written  out  my  screed, 
.  .  .  taking  a  point  of  view  which  I  do  not  think  I  have 
presented  before,  viz. :  that  inferior  education  and  re- 
stricted activity  made  women  the  inferiors  of  men,  as 
naturally  as  training,  education,  and  free  agency  make 
civilized  men  the  superior  of  the  savage.  I  think  that 
the  dear  Lord  gave  me  this  screed,  which  is  short  and 
simple  enough,  but,  I  think,  convincing.  .  .  ." 

This  Convention  came  near  being  her  last.  Tonsilli- 
tis was  epidemic  in  the  city;  the  halls  were  draughty; 
at  one  meeting  a  woman  with  a  severe  cold,  a  stranger, 


344  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

kissed  her  effusively.  She  took  the  infection,  was  pros- 
trated for  some  days,  and  made-  the  return  journey 
while  still  too  weak  to  travel.  Florence,  who  was  with 
her,  protested  in  vain.  "I  would  go,"  she  said,  "if  the 
hearse  was  at  the  door  I "  A  serious  illness  followed  on 
her  return.  A  month  and  more  passed  before  she 
began  to  regain  strength  and  spirits.1 

"March  31.  Had  a  happy  lighting  up  when  I  lay 
down  for  afternoon  rest.  Felt  the  immensity  of  God's 
goodness  and  took  heart  for  the  future." 

In  April  she  records  "a  delightful  visit  from  Robert 
Collyer,  accompanied  by  Annie  Fields.  I  asked  him: 
'Robert,  what  is  religion?'  He  replied,  'To  love  God 
with  all  one's  heart,  Christ  helping  us.'  He  began  his 
prayer  last  Sunday  thus:  'Our  Father  who  art  in 
heaven,  on  earth,  and  in  hell ! ' " 

On  April  13,  she  was  "out  for  the  first  time  since 
February  14,  when  I  returned  sick  from  Baltimore. .  .  ." 

Another  week  and  she  was  at  her  church,  for  the  first 
time  since  January  18. 

It  had  been  a  long  and  weary  time,  yet  one  remem- 
bers not  so  much  the  suffering  and  confinement  as  the 
gayety  of  it.  There  was  a  sigh  for  the  Journal,  but  for 
the  family,  and  the  faithful  nurse,  — 

"Quips  and  cranks,  and  wanton  wiles, 
Nods  and  becks,  and  wreathed  smiles." 

This  nurse  was  known  to  others  as  Lucy  Voshell, 
but  her   patient  promptly  named  her  "Wollapuk." 

1  It  may  be  noted  that  this  epidemic  of  tonsillitis  was  actually  fatal  to 
Miss  Susan  B.  Anthony,  who  never  recovered  from  the  illness  contracted 
in  Baltimore. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    345 

She  was  as  merry  as  she  was  skillful,  and  the  two  made 
much  fun  together.  Even  when  the  patient  could 
not  speak,  she  could  twinkle.  As  strength  gradually 
returned,  the  ministrations  of  Wollapuk  became  pos- 
itively scenes  of  revelry;  and  the  anxious  guardian 
below,  warding  off  would-be  interviewers  or  suppli- 
ants, might  be  embarrassed  to  hear  peals  of  laughter 
ringing  down  the  stair. 

Early  in  May  she  has  "young  J.  W.  Hurlburt  to 
dine;  a  pleasant  young  playwright,  grandson  to  Gen- 
eral Hurlburt  of  the  Civil  War.  ..." 

"I  had  lent  my  play  of  'Hippolytus'  to  young  Hurl- 
burt to  read.  He  brought  it  back  yesterday  with  so 
much  praise  of  parts  of  it  as  to  revive  the  pang  which 
I  felt  when,  Charlotte  Cushman  and  Edwin  Booth 
having  promised  to  fill  the  principal  parts,  the  mana- 
ger's wife  suddenly  refused  to  fill  her  part,  and  the 
whole  fell  through.  This  with  much  other  of  my  best 
literary  work  has  remained  a  dead  letter  on  my  own 
shelves.  I  am  glad  as  well  as  sad  to  feel  that  it  deserved 
better  treatment." 

She  had  a  wheel-chair,  and  on  pleasant  days  it 
was  her  delight  to  be  wheeled  through  the  Public 
Garden,  now  in  full  May  beauty,  to  see  the  flowers 
and  the  children.  She  was  able  to  attend  several  meet- 
ings, and  to  write  several  papers. 

"May  18.  Have  read  part  of  the  recital  of  Anna 
Ticknor's  achievement  in  her  society  to  encourage 
studies  at  home.  Her  work  is  really  heroic.  I  wish  that 
I  had  better  understood  it.  Still  I  did  admire  it  a  great 
deal,  but  had  little  idea  of  the  great  benevolence  and 


346  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

sympathy  developed  in  her  work,  which  was  a  godsend 
to  thousands  of  women." 

"May  26.  My  dear  son  arrived  in  the  evening  to 
celebrate  my  birthday.  He  seems  well  and  happy.  I 
was  thankful  to  see  him.  Flowers  kept  arriving  all 
day." 

"May  27.  Attended  church  and  carried  some  of 
my  birthday  flowers  for  the  pulpit.  ...  In  the 
afternoon  a  beautiful  reception  which  the  rain  kept 
from  being  the  over-crowd  which  I  had  rather  feared. 
Colonel  Higginson  came  and  gave  me  some  lovely 
verses  written  for  the  occasion.  William  R.  Thayer 
did  likewise.  Arthur  Upson  had  already  sent  me 
some.  I  enjoyed  it  all  very  much;  dined  downstairs 
with  my  dear  family,  who  drank  my  health  standing. 
H.  M.  H.,  being  called  upon  for  a  word,  said,  'The 
dear  old  girl!'  and  could  not  have  said  better.  I 
thanked  and  blessed  them  all.  We  passed  the  evening 
together.  The  Greeks  of  Boston  sent  splendid  red 
roses  and  ribbons  with  motto.  The  Italians  sent 
flowers." 

After  this  she  wrote  an  essay  on  "How  to  Keep 
Young,"  in  which  she  says:  — 

"Try  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  best  spirits  of  your 
time,  with  those  who  are  raising  instead  of  lowering 
the  tone  of  the  atmosphere  in  which  they  live. 

"Avoid  the  companionship  of  those  who  deride  sa- 
cred things  and  are  inclined  to  ignore  the  limits  of 
refinement  and  good  taste. 

"Remember  that  ignoble  amusements  react  upon 
character. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    347 

"Never  forget  that  we  grow  like  to  that  we  con- 
template. 

"Keep  it  always  in  mind  that  it  must  be  through 
our  own  efforts  that  our  progress  through  life  shall 
bring  with  it  the  fulfilment  of  the  best  promise  of  our 
youth." 

"July  2.  Oak  Glen.  Nurse  Voshell,  nicknamed  by 
me  Wollapuk,  left  this  morning.  I  have  become  so 
dependent  upon  her  that  I  shall  miss  her  very  much. 
I  have  been  impatient  of  having  her  so  long,  but  now 
see  how  very  helpful  she  has  been  to  me. 

"I  began  to  write  a  retrospect  of  my  essay  on  'Dis- 
tinctions between  Philosophy  and  Religion,'  but  feel 
that  this  will  be  of  little  value.  Oh!  that  I  had  taken 
Dr.  Hedge's  advice  and  published  these  papers  soon 
after  they  were  written.  As  it  is  I  have  lost  two  of  the 
best  of  them,  viz. :  this  one  just  mentioned  and  'Moral 
Triangulation  of  the  Third  Party,'  in  obligations  and 
contrasts." 

In  these  days  she  met  with  a  grave  loss  in  the  death 
of  Michael  Anagnos. 

"I  am  deeply  grieved  at  his  death,  which  is  a  real 
loss  to  me  and  my  family,  and  almost  irreparable  to  the 
Institution  which  he  has  served  nobly  with  entire  de- 
votion and  disinterest  and  has  enriched  by  his  great 
and  constant  efforts.  He  built  three  Kindergartens  for 
the  blind.   God  rest  his  soul! 

"I  pray  that  my  great  pain  at  the  death  of  my 
son-in-law  may  inspire  me  to  help  the  blind  as  I  never 
have  helped  them!" 


348  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"My  strength  has  failed  so  much  of  late  that  my 
strong  love  of  life  begins  to  waver.  I  should  be  glad 
to  live  to  print  some  of  my  studies  in  Philosophy,  and 
to  have  some  of  my  musical  compositions  taken  down 
by  dictation." 

"August  31.  .  .  .  The  last  day  of  a  summer  which 
brought  a  serious  grief  in  the  death  of  Michael  Anagnos, 
who,  ever  since  my  visit  to  Greece  in  1867,  has  been 
an  important  factor  in  my  life.  I  am  much  troubled 
in  the  effort  to  compose  a  poem  to  be  read  at  the  me- 
morial services  to  be  held  for  him  in  late  October.  ..." 

A  photograph  taken  at  this  time  shows  her  sitting 
in  her  hooded  chair  on  the  piazza,  her  Greek  books 
and  her  canary  beside  her,  a  serene  and  lovely  picture. 
It  was  so  she  used  to  sit  every  morning.  First  she  read 
her  Testament,  and  a  prayer  of  James  Martineau, 
or  some  other  good  saint;  this  she  called  "taking 
the  altitude";  then  she  turned  to  her  iEschylus  or 
Aristotle. 

Before  thus  settling  down,  there  would  be  a  walk 
on  the  piazza,  or  along  the  highway.  Sheltered  by 
a  broad  hat,  the  friend  of  many  years,  wrapped  in 
the  "passionate  pilgrim,"  as  she  named  a  certain 
ancient  purple  cloak,  leaning  on  her  ebony  stick  — 
who  that  passed  that  way  has  not  seen  her?  Bits  of 
her  talk,  as  we  strolled  together,  come  back  to  us;  as 
when  the  clouds  parted  suddenly  at  the  close  of  a  gray 
day,  then  shutting  in  again.  "Oh!"  she  cried,  "it 
is  like  being  engaged  to  the  man  you  love,  for  five 
minutes!" 

"September  16.  ...  I  had  had  much  hesitation  about 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    349 

undertaking  to  speak  at  Shiloh  Baptist  Church  [col- 
ored] this  afternoon;  but  it  came  to  me  as  something 
which  I  ought  to  do,  and  so  I  gave  the  promise,  and, 
with  some  studying,  wrote  the  sermon.  The  result 
fully  justified  the  effort.  I  spoke  to  a  large  and  very 
attentive  congregation,  in  which  a  number  of  white 
outsiders  were  mingled  in  with  the  people  of  the 
church.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Jeter  sang  my  '  Battle  Hymn,'  the 
congregation  joining  in  the  'Glory  Hallelujah.'  I  then 
read  my  screed,  which  was  heard  with  profound  atten- 
tion, one  and  another  crying  out  at  intervals,  'Amen!' 
and  'Glory  be  to  God!'  ...  I  was  very  thankful  for 
the  good  issue  of  what  had  seemed  an  almost  wild 
undertaking  at  eighty-seven  years  of  age." 

"October  23.  Have  prayed  and  worked  over  the 
poem  for  Michael's  memorial  services  —  think  that  I 
have  made  it  as  good  as  I  can,  but  not  good  enough. 
Alas!  I  am  too  old." 

She  went  up  to  Boston  for  this  meeting  in  Tremont 
Temple,  which  was  a  most  impressive  one,  Greeks  and 
Americans  uniting  to  do  honor  to  a  good  man. 

"October  24,.  ...  I  read  my  verse,  my  voice  serving 
me  very  well.  Bishop  Lawrence  helped  me  both  to 
rise  and  to  return  to  my  seat.  He  made  a  most  touch- 
ing allusion  to  my  dearest  dear  Julia's  devotion  to  the 
blind,  and  said  where  a  man  was  engaged  in  a  noble 
work  there  usually  rose  up  a  noble  woman  to  help 
him." 

"October  26.  Had  a  sudden  blessed  thought  this 
morning,  viz.:  that  the  'Tabernacle  eternal  in  the 
heavens '  is  the  eternity  of  truth  and  right.  I  naturally 


350  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

desire  life  after  death,  but  if  it  is  not  granted  me,  I 
have  yet  a  part  in  the  eternal  glory  of  this  tabernacle." 

"October  29.  Dear  H.  M.  H.  left  us  this  morning, 
after  a  short  but  very  pleasant  visit.  He  brought  here 
his  decorations  of  his  Russian  order  to  show  us;  they 
are  quite  splendid.  He  is  the  same  dear  old  simple 
music-  and  mischief-loving  fellow,  very  sensitive  for 
others,  very  modest  for  himself,  and  very  dear." 

"November  7.  .  .  .  Prayed  hard  this  morning  that 
my  strength  fail  not." 

During  this  summer,  an  electric  elevator  had  been 
put  into  the  Boston  house,  and  life  was  made  much 
easier  for  her.  From  this  time  we  became  familiar 
with  the  vision  of  her  that  still  abides,  flitting  up  or 
down  in  her  gilded  car.  Watching  her  ascent,  clad  in 
white,  a  smile  on  her  lips,  her  hand  waving  farewell, 
one  could  only  think  of  "The  chariot  of  Israel  and 
the  horsemen  thereof." 

Another  good  gift  was  a  Victor  machine.  When  the 
after-dinner  reading  was  over,  she  would  say,  "Now 
bring  my  opera-box!" 

The  white  armchair  was  wheeled  into  the  passage 
between  the  two  parlors.  Here  she  sat  in  state,  while 
the  great  singers  poured  out  their  treasures  before  her, 
while  violinist  and  pianist  gave  her  their  best.  She 
listened  with  keen  and  critical  enjoyment,  recalling 
how  Malibran  gave  this  note,  how  Grisi  and  Mario 
sang  that  duet.  Then  she  would  go  to  the  piano  and 
play  from  memory  airs  from  "Tancredi,"  "II  Pirata," 
"Richard  Cceur  de  Lion,"  and  other  operas  known  to 
us  only  through  her.   Or  she  would  —  always  without 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    351 

notes  —  play  the  "Barber  of  Seville"  almost  from 
beginning  to  end,  with  fingers  still  deft  and  nimble. 

She  loved  the  older  operas  best.  After  an  air  from 
"Don  Giovanni,"  she  would  say,  "Mozart  must  be  in 
heaven:  they  could  never  get  on  without  him!"  She 
thought  Handel's  "Messiah"  the  most  divine  point 
reached  by  earthly  music.  Beethoven  awed  and  swayed 
her  deeply,  and  she  often  quoted  his  utterance  while 
composing,  " Ich  trat  in  der  Nahe  Gottes!"  She  thrilled 
with  tender  pleasure  over  Verdi's  "Non  ti  scordar"  or 
" Ai  nostri  monti,"  and  over  "Martha."  She  enjoyed 
Chopin  "almost  too  much."  "He  is  exquisite,"  she 
would  say,  "but  somehow  —  rotten!" 

Among  the  pleasures  of  this  winter  was  a  visit  to 
New  York.  She  writes  after  it:  — 

"My  last  day  in  my  dear  son's  house.  He  and 
Fannie  have  been  devotedly  kind  to  me.  They  made 
me  occupy  their  room,  much  to  my  bodily  comfort,, 
but  to  the  great  disquiet  of  my  mind,  as  I  hated 
much  to  inconvenience  them.  My  son  has  now  a  very 
eminent  position.  .  .  .  God  bless  the  house  and  all  in  it. " 

"  December  17.  The  Old  South  Chapter  of  D.A.R.'s 
met  in  the  real  Old  South  Church;  there  was  much 
good  speaking.  I  recited  my  'Battle  Hymn'  and 
boasted  my  descent  from  General  Marion,  the  Swamp 
Fox,  saying  also,  'When,  eluding  the  vigilance  of  chil- 
dren and  grandchildren,  I  come  to  such  a  meeting  as- 
this,  without  a  previous  promise  not  to  open  my  lips, 
I  think  that  I  show  some  of  the  dexterity  of  my  illus- 
trious relative.'  I  also  had  to  spring  up  and  tell  them 
that  my  grandmother,  niece  to  General  Marion,  gave 


352  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

her  flannel  petticoat  to  make  cartridges  for  the  sol- 
diers of  the  Revolution." 

The  path  of  the  guardian  (or  jailer,  as  she  some- 
times put  it)  was  not  always  plain.  The  wayfaring 
woman  might  easily  err  therein. 

After  some  severe  fatigue,  convention  or  banquet, 
she  might  say,  "This  is  the  last  time.  Never  let  me  do 
this  again!" 

Thereupon  a  promise  would  be  exacted  and  made. 
The  fatigue  would  pass  and  be  forgotten,  and  the  next 
occasion  be  joyously  prepared  for. 

"You  told  me  not  to  let  you  go  I"  the  poor  jailer 
would  say. 

"Oh,  I  did  n't  mean  it!" 

"But  you  promised!" 

"That  was  two  weeks  ago.  Two  weeks  is  a  long 
time  for  me  to  keep  a  promise!" 

If  the  jailer  still  persisted,  she  played  her  last  card 
and  took  the  trick. 

"I  can't  talk  about  it.   You  tire  my  head!" 

Now  and  then  Greek  met  Greek.  One  snowy  after- 
noon she  encountered  the  resident  granddaughter, 
cloaked  and  hooded,  preparing  to  brave  the  storm. 

"Dear  child,"  said  the  grandmother,  "I  do  not 
often  use  authority  with  you  young  people,  but  this 
time  I  must.  I  cannot  allow  you  to  go  out  in  this 
blizzard!" 

"Dearest  grandmother,"  replied  the  maiden,  "where 
are  you  going  yourself  ?  " 

There  was  no  reply.  The  two  generations  dissolved 
in  laughter,  and  started  out  together. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"   353 

She  bids  farewell  to  1906  as  "dear  Year  that  hast 
brought  me  so  many  comforts  and  pleasures!"  and 
thus  hails  the  New  Year :  — 

"I  earnestly  pray  for  God's  blessing  on  this  year! 
...  I  might  possibly  like  one  more  European  jour- 
ney to  see  the  Gallery  at  Madrid,  and  the  chateaux 
of  Touraine,  but  I  do  not  ask  it,  as  I  may  have  more 
important  occupation  for  my  time  and  money.  .  .  . 
Du  reste,  the  dear  Father  has  done  so  much  better 
for  me,  in  many  ways,  than  I  have  ingenuity  to  wish, 
that  I  can  only  say,  'Thy  will  be  done,  only  desert  me 
not.'" 

She  determines  "  at  last  to  be  more  prompt  in  re- 
sponse to  letters  and  bills.  I  am  now  apt  to  lose  sight 
of  them,  to  my  great  inconvenience  and  that  of  other 
people." 

It  was  pain  to  her  to  destroy  even  a  scrap  of  paper 
that  bore  writing :  the  drifts  of  notes  and  letters  grew 
higher  and  higher  among  the  piles  of  books,  new  and 
old.  The  books  were  not  all  her  own  choice.  Many  a 
firstling  of  verse  found  its  way  to  her,  inscribed  with 
reverent  or  loving  words  by  the  author.  Would  Mrs. 
Howe  send  a  few  lines  of  appreciation  or  criticism? 
She  would;  mostly  she  did.  She  wrote  in  the  auto- 
graph albums,  and  on  the  pieces  of  silk  and  cotton 
for  "autograph  quilts":  she  signed  the  photographs: 
she  tried  to  do  everything  they  asked. 

"January  11.  Having  hammered  at  some  verses  for 
General  Lee,  when  I  lay  down  to  rest  a  perfect  flood 
of  rhymes  seized  me.  Nonsense  verses  for  to-morrow's 
festival;  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  them.  I  scrawled 


354  JULIA  WARD   HOWE 

some  of  them  down  as  it  was  late  and  dark.  Sanborn 
to  dine  —  unexpected,  but  always  welcome." 

"January  12.  Copied  and  completed  my  lines  for 
the  evening.  Found  a  large  assemblage  of  members 
and  invited  guests  [of  the  Authors'  Club];  a  dais  and 
chair  prepared  for  me,  Colonel  Higginson  standing  on 
my  right.  Many  presentations  —  Gilder  and  Clyde 
Fitch,  Owen  Wister,  Norman  Hapgood.  Aldrich 
[T.  B.]  took  me  in  to  dinner  and  sat  on  my  right,  Hon. 
John  D.  Long  on  my  left;  next  beyond  A.  sat  Homans 
Womans.1  I  despaired  of  making  my  jingle  tell  in  so 
large  and  unfamiliar  a  company.  At  last  I  took  courage 
and  read  it,  bad  as  I  thought  it.  To  my  surprise,  it 
told,  and  created  the  merriment  which  had  been  my 
object  so  far  as  I  had  any.  My  'Battle  Hymn'  was 
sung  finely  by  a  male  quartette.  Colonel  Higginson 
and  I  were  praised  almost  out  of  our  senses.  A  calen- 
dar, got  up  with  much  labor,  was  presented  to  each 
of  us." 

"January  13.  To  church,  to  take  down  my  vanity 
after  last  evening's  laudations.  ..." 

"January  15.  Made  a  final  copy  of  my  lines  on 
Robert  E.  Lee,  —  read  them  to  Rosalind  —  the  last 
line  drew  a  tear  from  each  of  us,  so  I  concluded  that 
it  would  do  and  sent  it. 

"To  Tuesday  Club,  where  the  effort  which  I  made 
to  hear  speakers  tired  my  head  badly.  Themes: 
*  Whether  and  how  to  teach  Ethics  in  Public  Schools'; 
also,  'The  English  Education  Bill.'  Socrates  having 
been  mentioned  as  an  exemplar,  I  suddenly  cried  out 

1  Mrs.  Charles  Homans. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    355 

that  I  thought  he  did  wrong  to  stay  and  suffer  by 
unjust  laws  and  popular  superstition.  A  first-class 
American  would  have  got  away  and  would  have 
fought  those  people  to  the  bitter  death.  This  fiery 
little  episode  provoked  laughter,  and  several  privately 
told  me  they  were  glad  of  it." 

"January  25.  .  .  .  Read  Colonel  Higginson's  account 
of  me  in  the  'Outlook.'  Wrote  him  a  note  of  thanks, 
saying  that  he  has  written  beautifully,  with  much  tact 
and  kindness.  It  remains  true  that  he  has  not  much 
acquaintance  with  the  serious  side  of  my  life  and  char- 
acter, my  studies  of  philosophy,  etc.  He  has  described 
what  he  has  seen  of  me  and  has  certainly  done  it  with 
skill  and  with  a  most  kind  intention." 

She  said  of  the  Colonel's  paper,  "  He  does  not  real- 
ize that  my  life  has  been  here,  the  four  walls  of  my 
room." 

"February  5.  .  .  .  Began  a  sermon  on  the  text,  'I 
saw  Satan  like  lightning  fall  from  heaven.'  ..." 

"February  6.  Wrote  a  good  bit  on  the  sermon  begun 
yesterday  —  the  theme  attracts  me  much.  If  I  give 
it,  I  will  have  Whittier's  hymn  sung:  'Oh!  sometimes 
gleams  upon  our  sight  — ' 

"Wrote  to  thank  Higginson  for  sending  me  word 
that  I  am  the  first  woman  member  of  the  society  of 
American  Authors.  .  .  ." 

"February  lJf.  Luncheon  at  3  Joy  Street.  .  .  .  My 
seat  was  between  T.  W.  H.  and  President  Eliot,  with 
whom  I  had  not  spoken  in  many  years.  He  spoke  to 
me  at  once  and  we  shook  hands  and  conversed  very 
cordially.  I  had  known  his  father  quite  well  —  a  lover 


356  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

of  music,  who  had  much  to  do  with  the  early  produc- 
tions of  Beethoven's  Symphonies  in  Boston,  collecting 
money  in  aid  of  the  undertaking.  President  Eliot  made 
a  good  speech  for  Berea;  others  followed.  .  .  .  When 
my  name  was  called,  I  had  already  a  good  thought  to 
express." 

"February  18.  To  N.E.W.C,  where  Colonel  Higgin- 
son  and  I  spoke  of  Longfellow;  I  from  long  and  inti- 
mate acquaintance,  he  from  a  literary  point  of  view. 
He  said,  I  thought  rightly,  that  we  are  too  near  him 
to  be  able  to  judge  his  merits  as  a  poet;  time  must  test 
them." 

"February  27.  .  .  .  In  evening  went  with  the  Jewett 
sisters  to  the  celebration  of  Longfellow's  Centennial. 
I  had  copied  my  verses  written  for  the  first  Authors' 
Reading  in  re  Longfellow,  rather  hoping  that  I  might 
be  invited  to  read  them.  This  did  not  happen.  I  had 
had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  it  would,  not  having 
been  thereunto  invited.  Had  a  seat  on  the  platform 
among  the  poet's  friends,  myself  one  of  the  oldest  of 
them.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could  hardly  hold  my  tongue, 
which,  however,  I  did.  I  remembered  that  God  has 
given  me  many  opportunities  of  speaking  my  thoughts. 
If  He  withheld  this  one  I  am  bound  to  suppose  it  was 
for  the  best.  I  sat  on  the  platform,  where  Sarah  Jewett 
and  I  were  the  only  women  in  the  charmed  circle. 

"Item.  The  audience  rose  and  greeted  me  as  I 
ascended  to  the  platform  at  Sanders  Theatre." 

She  could  not  bear  to  be  "left  out";  indeed,  she 
rarely  was.  In  this  one  respect  she  was,  perhaps,  the 
"spoiled  child"  that  she  sometimes  called  herself. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    357 

March  brought  a  new  pleasure,  in  seeing  and  meet- 
ing Novelli,  the  great  Italian  actor. 

"March  IJf.  The  banquet  of  the  Circolo  at  Lombardy 
Inn.  .  .  .  My  seat  was  at  the  head  of  the  table  with 
Novelli  on  my  right  and  Tosti,  the  consul,  on  my  left. 
Had  some  pleasant  talk  with  each.  Then  I  had  a  good 
inspiration  for  part  of  my  speech,  in  which  I  men- 
tioned the  egg  used  by  Columbus,  and  made  to  stand, 
to  show  that  things  held  to  be  impossible  often  proved 
possible.  I  said  that  out  of  this  egg  'was  hatched  the 
American  Eagle.'  Madame  Novelli  shed  tears  at  this, 
and  Novelli  kissed  my  hand.  The  Italian  servants  lis- 
tened eagerly  to  all  the  speaking,  and  participated  in 
the  applause.  President  Geddes,  Secretary  Jocelyn, 
and  others  spoke  well  and  rather  briefly.  Dear  Padre 
Roberto  was  really  eloquent." 

"March  16.  ...  In  the  evening  to  see  Novelli  in 
'Morte  Civile';  his  personation  wonderfully  fine,  sur- 
passing even  Salvini  in  the  part.  ..." 

"March  17.  ...  Went  to  South  Boston  to  say  a 
word  at  the  presentation  of  dear  Michael's  portrait  to 
the  Perkins  Institution  by  the  Howe  Memorial  Club. 
.  .  .  Also  had  a  wonderful  fit  of  verse  —  wrote  two 
sonnets  to  Dante  and  a  versification  of  my  conceit 
about  the  hatching  of  the  American  Eagle  from  the 
egg  of  Columbus." 

"March  23.  A  'boot-and-saddle'  day.  ...  I  found 
that  my  Authors'  Club  will  meet  to-day  in  Cambridge. 
Higginson  telephoned,  asking  me  to  speak  of  Aldrich; 
I  asked  permission  to  leave  the  College  Club  after  the 
speaking.  Ordered  a  carriage  at  4.30,  sprang  into  it, 


358  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

and  reached  the  Authors'  meeting  in  good  time  to  say 
something  about  Aldrich.  .  .  .  Found  a  man  who  has 
studied  the  Berber  races  in  Africa.  Had  a  good  talk 
with  him.  Came  home  dreadfully  tired.  To  bed  by 
9.30.  At  the  College  Club  I  said  that  to  give  women 
the  vote  in  this  State  would  not  double  the  illiterate 
vote  —  proposed  a  census  of  comparative  illiteracy  of 
the  sexes  in  Massachusetts  at  least." 

We  had  long  besought  her  to  have  her  musical 
compositions  written  down,  and  now  this  was  done  in 
part.  Once  or  twice  a  week  Mr.  John  M.  Loud  came 
to  the  house  and  took  down  her  melodies,  she  singing 
and  playing  them  to  him.  She  always  enjoyed  the 
hour  with  the  young  composer.  A  number  of  the 
melodies  thus  preserved  were  published  in  a  "Song 
Album"  by  G.  Schirmer  some  months  later. 

"April  8.  Great  trouble  of  mind  about  attending  the 
Peace  Convention  in  New  York,  which  I  have  prom- 
ised to  do.  Laura  dead  against  it,  reinforced  by  Wessel- 
hoeft,  Sr.,  who  pronounces  it  dangerous  for  me.  I  at 
last  wrote  to  ask  my  dear  minister  about  it." 

"April  9.  ...  A  violent  snowstorm  keeps  me  at 
home.  Minister  and  wife  write,  'Don't  go  to  Peace 
Convention.'  I  asked  God  in  my  prayer  this  morning 
to  make  going  possible  or  impossible  for  me.  I  took 
C.  G.  A.'s  letter  as  making  it  impossible,  as  I  had 
decided  to  abide  by  his  decision.  Wrote  a  letter  of  ex- 
planation to  Anna  Garlin  Spencer.  I  am  much  disap- 
pointed, but  it  is  a  relief  not  to  cause  Laura  such  pain- 
ful anxiety  as  she  would  have  felt  if  I  had  decided  to 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    359 

go.  She  wept  with  joy  when  I  gave  it  up.  We  had  a 
very  pleasant  dinner  party  for  the  Barrett  Wendells 
with  their  friends,  Professor  Ames,  of  Berkeley  Uni- 
versity, California,  'Waddy'  Longfellow,  Charles  Gib- 
son, Laura,  Betty,  and  I." 

She  sent  a  letter  to  the  Convention,  which  was  read 
by  Florence.  In  this,  after  recalling  her  Peace  Crusade 
of  1872,  she  said:  — 

"Here  and  there,  a  sisterly  voice  responded  to  my 
appeal,  but  the  greater  number  said : '  We  have  neither 
time  nor  money  that  we  can  call  our  own.  We  cannot 
travel,  we  cannot  meet  together.'  And  so  my  intended 
Peace  Congress  of  Women  melted  away  like  a  dream, 
and  my  final  meeting,  held  in  the  world's  great  metrop- 
olis, did  not  promise  to  lead  to  any  important  result. 

"What  has  made  the  difference  between  that  time 
and  this?  New  things,  so  far  as  women  are  concerned, 
viz. :  the  higher  education  conceded  to  them,  and  the 
discipline  of  associated  action,  with  which  later  years 
have  made  them  familiar.  Who  shall  say  how  great  an 
element  of  progress  has  existed  in  this  last  clause? 
Who  shall  say  what  fretting  of  personal  ambition  has 
become  merged  in  the  higher  ideal  of  service  to  the 
State  and  to  the  world?  The  noble  army  of  women 
which  I  saw  as  a  dream,  and  to  which  I  made  my  ap- 
peal, has  now  come  into  being.  On  the  wide  field  where 
the  world's  great  citizens  band  together  to  uphold  the 
highest  interests  of  society,  women  of  the  same  type 
employ  their  gifts  and  graces  to  the  same  end.  Oh, 
happy  change!  Oh,  glorious  metamorphosis!  In  less 
than  half  a  century  the  conscience  of  mankind  has 


360  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

made  its  greatest  stride  toward  the  control  of  human 
affairs.  The  women's  colleges  and  the  women's  clubs 
have  had  everything  to  do  with  the  great  advance 
which  we  see  in  the  moral  efficiency  of  our  sex.  These 
two  agencies  have  been  derided  and  decried,  but  they 
have  done  their  work. 

"If  a  word  of  elderly  counsel  may  become  me  at 
this  moment,  let  me  say  to  the  women  here  assembled : 
Do  not  let  us  go  back  from  what  we  have  gained.  Let 
us,  on  the  contrary,  press  ever  forward  in  the  light  of 
the  new  knowledge,  of  the  new  experience.  If  we  have 
rocked  the  cradle,  if  we  have  soothed  the  slumbers  of 
mankind,  let  us  be  on  hand  at  their  great  awakening, 
to  make  steadfast  the  peace  of  the  world!" 

She  was  glad  afterward  that  she  had  not  gone; 
but  a  significant  corollary  to  the  matter  appears  on 
April  25:  — 

"Providence  —  a  pleasant  trip,  made  possible  by 
dear  Laura's  departure." 

(That  is,  "  dear  Laura  "  knew  nothing  about  it  till 
afterward.  How  often  we  recalled  the  old  Quaker's 
saying  to  her,  "It  was  borne  in  upon  me  at  an  early 
period  that  if  I  told  no  one  what  I  intended  to  do,  I 
should  be  enabled  to  do  it!") 

In  the  last  week  of  April  ("dear  Laura"  being  still 
absent)  she  spoke  four  times  in  public,  on  four  suc- 
cessive days.  These  addresses  were  at  the  Kindergar- 
ten for  the  Blind  ("I  missed  the  snap  which  Michael's 
presence  was  wont  to  give;  I  spoke  praise  of  him  to 
the  children,  as  one  to  be  held  in  dear  remembrance; 
to   the  visitors,  as  having  left  the  public  a  sacred 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    361 

legacy  in  these  schools,  which  he  created  with  so  much 
labor"),  at  Faneuil  Hall,  a  meeting  about  Old  Home 
Week,  at  the  West  Newton  High  School,  and  at  Provi- 
dence. On  the  fifth  day  she  was  at  the  Wintergreen 
Club,  answering  the  question,  "What  is  the  Greatest 
Evil  of  the  Present  Day?"  —  "False  estimates  of 
values,  vehement  striving  for  what  hinders  rather  than 
helps  our  spiritual  development." 

After  this  bout  she  was  glad  to  rest  a  day  or  two, 
but  in  another  week  was  ready  for  the  Woman  Suffrage 
Festival.  "I  to  open  it,  evening,  Faneuil  Hall.  A  day 
of  rushing.  Lady  Mary  and  Professor  Gilbert  Murray 
to  breakfast  9  a.m.,  which  I  much  enjoyed.  Then  my 
little  music  man,  who  took  three  tunes;  then  a  snatch 
at  preparation  for  the  evening's  exercises.  Jack  and 
Elizabeth  Chapman  in  the  afternoon.  At  4.45  got  a 
little  rest  and  sleep.  At  5.40  drove  to  Faneuil  Hall, 
which  I  found  not  so  full  as  sometimes.  Thought  mis- 
erably of  my  speech.  Light  to  read  it  very  dim..  I 
called  to  order,  introduced  Mr.  Wliite  and  the  ladies' 
quartette,  then  read  my  poor  little  scribble.  ...  I  was, 
thankful  to  get  through  my  part,  and  my  speech  in 
print  was  n't  bad  at  all." 

In  May  she  preached  at  the  Church  of  the  Disciples. 
*  "A  culmination  of  anxiety  for  this  day,  desired 
and  yet  dreaded.  My  head  growled  a  little  at  waking, 
but  not  badly.  My  voice  seemed  all  right,  but  how 
about  the  matter  of  my  sermon?  Was  it  all  worth 
while,  and  on  Whitsunday  too?  I  wore  my  white  cash- 
mere dress.  Laura  went  with  me  to  church.  C.  G.  A. 
was  there.  As  he  led  me  to  the  pulpit,  the  congregation 


362  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

rose.  The  service  was  very  congenial  and  calming  to 
my  anxiety.  I  read  the  sermon  quite  audibly  from 
beginning  to  end.  It  was  listened  to  with  profound 
attention,  if  I  may  say  so." 

"May  20.  .  .  .  Marion  Crawford  arrived  soon  after 
three  for  a  little  visit.  He  looks  greatly  improved  in 
health  since  I  last  saw  him.  He  must  have  passed 
through  some  crisis  and  come  out  conqueror.  He  has 
all  his  old  charm.  .  .  ." 

She  was  lamenting  the  death  of  her  cousin  and  child- 
hood playfellow,  Dr.  Valentine  Mott  Francis,  when 
"a  much  greater  affliction"  fell  upon  her  in  the  death 
of  her  son-in-law,  David  Prescott  Hall.  "This  hurts 
me,"  she  writes,  "like  a  physical  pain." 

To  Florence 

Oak  Glen,  July  3,  1907. 
My  deakest  dear  Flossy,  — 

You  are  quite  right  in  saying  that  we  greatly  need 
the  consoling  belief  in  a  future  life  to  help  us  bear  the 
painful  separation  which  death  brings.  Surely,  the 
dear  Christ  believed  in  immortality,  and  promised  it 
to  faithful  souls.  I  have  myself  derived  great  comfort 
from  this  belief,  although  I  must  confess  that  I  know 
nothing  about  it.  You  may  remember  what  [Downer] 
said  to  your  dear  father :  "  I  don't  know  anything  about 
it,  but  Jesus  Christ  certainly  believed  in  immortality, 
and  I  pin  my  faith  on  him,  and  run  for  luck."  .  .  .  Alice 
and  her  trio  of  babes  came  safe  to  hand  this  morning. 
Frances  at  once  began  to  spread  the  gravel  from  out- 
doors on  the  best  staircase,  but  desisted  when  forbid- 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    363 

den  to  do  so.  .  .  .  Farewell,  dearest  child.  You  have 
had  a  grievous  loss,  and  will  feel  it  more  and  more. 
We  must  trust  in  God,  and  take  our  sorrows  believing 
in  the  loving  fatherhood.  Maud  writes  me  that  she 
suffers  an  irreparable  loss  in  dear  David's  death.  .  .  . 

Your  loving 

Mother. 

Much  work  was  on  hand  this  summer:  a  poem  for 
Old  Home  Week  in  Boston,  another  for  the  Coopers- 
town  Centennial,  a  paper  on  the  "Elegant  Literature 
of  Fifty  Years  Since,"  one  for  the  "Delineator"  on 
"The  Three  Greatest  Men  I  Have  Known."  These 
were  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  Theodore  Parker,  and 
Dr.  Howe.  She  spent  much  time  and  pains  on  this 
article.  She  read  Elliot  Cabot's  "Life  of  Emerson," 
which  she  thought  "certainly  a  good  piece  of  work, 
but  deficient,  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  romantic  sympathy 
which  is  the  true  interpretation  of  Emerson  and  of  all 
his  kind." 

She  "hammered"  hard  on  the  two  poems,  with  good 
results. 

"July  14.  I  can  hardly  believe  it,  but  my  miserable 
verses,  re-read  to-day,  seemed  quite  possible,  if  I  can 
have  grace  to  fill  out  their  sketchiness.  Last  word  to- 
night :  I  think  I  have  got  a  poem.  Nil  desjperandum  I " 

"July  24..  Difficult  to  exaggerate  the  record  of  my 
worry  this  morning.  I  feel  a  painful  uncertainty  about 
going  to  Boston  to  read  my  poem  for  Old  Home 
Week.  Worse  than  this  is  my  trouble  about  two 
poems  sent  me  while  in  Boston,  with  original  music, 


364  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

to  be  presented  to  the  committee  for  Home  Week, 
which  I  have  entirely  forgotten  and  neglected.  To  do 
this  was  far  from  my  intention,  but  my  old  head  fairly 
gave  out  in  the  confusion  of  the  various  occasions  in 
which  I  was  obliged  to  take  an  active  part." 

She  yielded  to  entreaty  and  stayed  at  home,  and 
was  rewarded  by  "a  most  gratifying  letter  from  Ed- 
ward Everett  Hale,  telling  me  that  Josiah  Quincy  read 
my  poem  with  real  feeling,  and  that  it  was  warmly 
received." 

"My  prayer  is  answered.  I  have  lived  to  see  my 
dear  girl  again.  ...  I  give  thanks  earnestly  and  heart- 
ily, but  seem  for  a  time  paralyzed  by  her  presence." 

With  the  early  autumn  came  a  great  pleasure  in  a 
visit  to  the  new  "Green  Peace,"  the  house  which  her 
son  had  built  at  Bedford  Hills,  New  York.  She  was 
delighted  with  the  house  and  garden;  the  Journal  tells 
of  all  manner  of  pleasant  gayeties. 

"September  12.  Fannie  had  a  luncheon  party  even 
pleasanter  than  yesterday's.  Rev.  Mr.  Luquer  is  a 
grandson  of  Dominick  Lynch,  who  used  to  come  to  my 
father's  house  in  my  childhood  and  break  my  heart  by 
singing  'Lord  Ullin's  Daughter.'  I  remember  creeping 
under  the  piano  once  to  hide  my  tears.  He  sang  all  the 
Moore  melodies  with  great  expression.  .  .  .  This,  his 
descendant,  looks  a  good  deal  like  him.  Was  bred  a 
lawyer.  My  good  Uncle  Cutler  twice  asked  him 
whether  he  would  study  for  the  ministry.  He  said, 
'No.'  My  uncle  said  the  second  time,  'What  shall  it 
profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his 
own  soul?'  This  word,  he  told  me,  came  back  to  him. 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"    365 

.  .  .  Worked  a  good  deal  on  my  poem.  At  least  thought 
and  thought  much,  and  altered  a  little." 

This  was  the  poem  which  prefaces  this  chapter  and 
which  was  written  for  the  forthcoming  Unitarian  Con- 
vention in  Boston.  She  had  been  at  work  on  it  for 
some  time,  first  "trying  to  try  j or  it,"'  and  later  "ham- 
mering" and  polishing  with  great  care.  "It  came  to 
me  like  a  flash,"  she  says,  "but  had  to  be  much  thought 
over  and  corrected."  And  again,  "It  was  given  to 
me  something  as  was  my  'Battle  Hymn.'  ..." 

"October  25.  Wrote  to  a  very  bumptious  child, 
thirteen  years  old,  who  proffers  me  her  friendship  and 
correspondence,  claiming  to  have  written  poems  and 
magazine  contributions  praised  by  'noted  authors.' 
I  sent  her  back  her  letter,  with  three  or  four  corrections 
and  a  little  advice,  kindly  meant,  but  which  may  not 
be  so  taken.  .  .  .  She  will  probably  turn  and  rend  me, 
but  I  really  felt  it  might  do  her  good." 

"November  llf,.  Gardiner.  A  good  meditation.  The 
sense  of  God  in  the  universe  seems  to  be  an  attribute 
of  normal  humanity.  We  cannot  think  of  our  own 
personal  identity  without  at  the  same  time  imagining 
a  greater  self  from  which  we  derive.  This  idea  may  be 
crude  and  barbarous,  great  minds  have  done  much  to 
make  it  otherwise;  Christ  most  of  all  with  His  doctrine 
of  divine  love,  providence,  and  forgiveness.  The  idea 
of  a  life  beyond  this  one  seems  also  to  appertain  to 
normal  humanity.  We  had  best  accept  this  great  en- 
dowment which  philosophy  seeks  to  analyze  much  as 
a  boy  will  take  a  watch  to  pieces,  but  cannot  put  it 
together  again  so  that  it  will  work." 


366  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"November  15.  Another  long  sitting  and  meditation. 
What  have  individual  philosophers  done  for  religion? 
As  I  recall  what  I  could  learn  of  the  Kantian  philoso- 
phy, I  think  that  it  principally  taught  the  limitations 
of  human  knowledge,  correcting  thereby  the  assump- 
tions of  systems  of  thought  and  belief  to  absolute  au- 
thority over  the  thinker  and  believer.  He  calls  con- 
science 'the  categorical  imperative';  but  that  term  in 
no  wise  explains  either  the  origin  or  authority  of  the 
moral  law.  His  rule  of  testing  the  rectitude  of  the  act 
by  the  way  in  which,  if  it  were  made  universal,  it  would 
affect  the  well-being  of  society,  is  useful,  but  simply 
pragmatic,  not  in  William  James's  sense.  The  German 
idealism,  the  theory  by  which  we  evolve  or  create  all 
that  occupies  our  senses  and  our  mind,  appears  to  me 
a  monstrous  expanse  of  egotism.  No  doubt,  dialectics 
serve  as  mental  athletics,  and  speculative  thought  may 
be  useful  as  an  exercise  of  the  mental  powers;  but  proc- 
esses which  may  be  useful  in  this  way  might  be  very 
unfit  to  be  held  as  permanent  possessions  of  persua- 
sion. It  occurs  to  me  that  it  might  be  more  blessed  to 
help  the  souls  in  hell  than  to  luxuriate  with  saints  in 
heaven." 

"November  20.  Boston.  Began  my  screed  on  the 
'Joys  of  Motherhood'  for  the  'Delineator.'  Wrote 
currente  calamo.  ..." 

"November  23.  Rather  an  off  day.  Found  T.  W. 
Higginson's  little  volume  of  verses,  presented  to  me 
on  my  seventieth  birthday,  and  read  a  good  deal  in  it. 
When  the  Colonel  gave  it  to  me,  he  read  a  little  poem, 
'Sixty  and  Six,'  very  charmingly.  Seems  to  me  that  I 


"SUNDOWN  SPLENDID  AND  SERENE"   367 

ought  to  have  read  this  little  book  through  long  before 
this  time.  One  of  the  sweetest  poems  in  it  is  about 
the  blue-eyed  baby  that  they  lost  after  some  six  weeks' 
happy  possession.  I  sent  a  pretty  little  baby  wreath 
for  it,  feeling  very  sorry  for  them  both." 

"November  28.  Much  troubled  about  my  Whittier 
poem." 

"December  3.  Thanks  be  to  God!  I  have  written 
my  Whittier  rhyme.  It  has  cost  me  much  labor,  for  I 
have  felt  that  I  could  not  treat  a  memory  so  reverend 
with  cheap  and  easy  verses.  I  have  tried  to  take  his 
measure,  and  to  present  a  picture  of  him  which  shall 
deserve  to  live."  l 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cobden-Sanderson,  the  English  suf- 
fragists, were  in  Boston  this  winter.  They  dined  with 
her,  and  proved  "very  agreeable.  Mrs.  Sanderson's 
visit  ought  to  help  suffrage  mightily,  she  is  in  such 
dead  earnest  for  it.  After  dinner  I  proposed  that 
each  one  should  name  his  favorite  Browning  poem. 
I  named  'Pippa,'  Mrs.  Sanderson  'Paracelsus,'  Mr.  S., 
'The  Grammarian's  Funeral,'  etc.,  etc.  The  talk  was 
so  good  that  we  could  not  stop  it  to  hear  the  Victor, 
which  I  regretted." 

Another  delightful  dinner  of  this  winter  was  one 
given  in  her  honor  by  her  niece,  Mrs.  Richard  Aldrich 
(Margaret  Chanler),  in  New  York.  Among  the  guests 
were  Kneisel,  the  violinist,  and  Schelling,  the  pianist. 
Mrs.  Aldrich  demanded  "Flibbertigibbet,"  and  our 
mother  played  and  recited  it  in  such  a  manner  that  the 

1  This  poem  appears  in  At  Sunset. 


368  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

two  musicians  were  inspired  to  play,  as  the  people  in 
the  story  were  to  dance.  Kneisel  flew  home  for  his 
violin,  Schelling  sat  down  at  the  piano,  and  the  two 
played  Bach  for  her  and  to  her  delight. 

"The  occasion  was  memorable!"  she  says. 

Returning  from  New  York,  she  was  able  to  attend 
the  Whittier  Centennial  at  Haverhill. 

"December  17.  .  .  .  Sanborn  came  to  take  me.  ...  I 
have  been  praying  to  be  well  for  this  occasion,  my 
last  public  engagement  for  some  weeks.  I  am  thankful 
to  have  been  able,  at  my  advanced  age,  to  read  this 
poem  at  the  Whittier  Celebration  and  to  be  assured 
by  one  present  that  I  had  never  been  in  better  voice, 
and  by  others  that  I  was  generally  heard  without  dif- 
ficulty by  the  large  audience." 

"December  31.  Oh,  blessed  year  1907!  It  has  been 
granted  me  to  write  four  poems  for  public  occasions, 
all  of  which  have  proved  acceptable;  also  three  fa- 
tiguing magazine  articles,  which  have  for  the  time 
bettered  my  finances.  I  have  lived  in  peace  and  good- 
will with  all  men,  and  in  great  contentment  with  my 
own  family,  to  which  this  year  added  a  promising 
little  great-grandson,  taking  away,  alas !  my  dear  son- 
in-law,  David  Prescott  Hall.  I  found  a  very  compe- 
tent and  friendly  young  musician  who  has  taken  down 
nearly  all  my  songs.  ...  A  word  was  given  me  to 
speak,  namely,  'Thanks  for  the  blessed,  wonderful 
year  just  past.'" 


CHAPTER   XV 

"MINE   EYES   HAVE   SEEN   THE   GLORY   OF  THE   COMING 
OF  THE  LORD" 

1908-1910;  aet.  89-91 

I  have  made  a  voyage  upon  a  golden  river, 

'Neath  clouds  of  opal  and  of  amethyst. 
Along  its  banks  bright  shapes  were  moving  ever. 

And  threatening  shadows  melted  into  mist.        ,! 

The  eye,  unpractised,  sometimes  lost  the  current. 
When  some  wild  rapid  of  the  tide  did  whirl, 

While  yet  a  master  hand  beyond  the  torrent 
Freed  my  frail  shallop  from  the  perilous  swirl. 

Music  went  with  me,  fairy  flute  and  viol, 

The  utterance  of  fancies  half  expressed, 
And  with  these,  steadfast,  beyond  pause  or  trial, 

The  deep,  majestic  throb  of  Nature's  breast. 

My  journey  nears  its  close  —  in  some  still  haven 

My  bark  shall  find  its  anchorage  of  rest, 
When  the  kind  hand,  which  ever  good  has  given, 

Opening  with  wider  grace,  shall  give  the  best. 

J.  W.  H. 

The  grandchildren  were  her  chief  playmates  when 
Maud  was  in  Europe.  To  them,  the  grave  tone  of  the 
Journal,  the  tale  of  her  public  work,  is  almost  unbe- 
lievable, recalling,  as  they  do,  the  household  life,  so 
warm,  so  rich,  so  intimate,  it  seemed  enough  in  itself 
to  fill  the  cup  to  overflowing.  She  had  said  of  herself 
that  in  social  activities  she  "bled  at  every  pore" :  but 
in  these  later  years  it  was  light  and  warmth  that  she 
shed  around  her,  kindling  whatever  she  touched.  At 
her  fire,  as  at  Uncle  Sam's,  we  warmed  our  hands  and 


370  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

our  hearts.  When  she  entered  a  room,  all  faces  lighted 
up,  as  if  she  carried  a  lamp  in  her  hand. 

Day  in,  day  out,  she  was  the  Guter  Camerad.  The 
desire  not  to  irritate  had  become  so  much  a  second 
nature  that  she  was  the  easiest  person  in  the  world  to 
live  with.  If  the  domestic  calm  were  disturbed,  "Don't 
say  anything  /"  was  her  word.   "  Wait  a  little  I" 

She  might  wake  with  the  deep  depression  so  often 
mentioned  in  the  Journal.  Pausing  at  her  door  to 
listen,  one  might  hear  a  deep  sigh,  a  plaintive  ejacula- 
tion; but  all  this  was  put  out  of  sight  before  she  left 
her  room,  and  she  came  down,  as  one  of  the  grand- 
children put  it,  "bubbling  like  a  silver  tea-kettle." 

Then  came  the  daily  festival  of  breakfast,  never  to 
be  hurried  or  "scamped."  The  talk,  the  letters,  some 
of  which  we  might  read  to  her,  together  with  the 
newspaper.  We  see  her  pressing  some  tidbit  on  a  child, 
watching  intently  the  eating  of  it,  then,  as  the  last 
mouthful  disappeared,  exclaiming  with  tragic  empha- 
sis, "I  wanted  it  /"  Then,  at  the  startled  face,  would 
come  peals  of  laughter;  she  would  throw  herself  back 
in  her  chair,  cover  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  tap 
the  floor  with  her  feet. 

"Look  at  her!"  cried  Maud.  "Rippling  with  sin  I" 

How  she  loved  to  laugh! 

"One  day,"  says  a  granddaughter,  "the  house  was 
overflowing  with  guests,  and  she  asked  me  to  take  my 
nap  on  her  sofa,  while  she  took  hers  on  the  bed.  We 
both  lay  down  in  peace  and  tranquillity,  but  after  a 
while,  when  she  thought  I  was  asleep,  I  heard  her 
laughing,  until  she  almost  wept.   Presently  she  fell 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    371 

asleep,  and  slept  her  usual  twenty  minutes,  to  wake 
in  the  same  gales  of  mirth.  She  laughed  until  the  bed 
shook,  but  softly,  trying  to  choke  her  laughter,  lest  I 
should  wake. 

" '  What  is  it  about? '  I  asked.  *  What  is  so  wonderful 
and  funny?' 

"'Oh,  my  dear,'  she  said,  breaking  again  into 
laughter,  'it  is  nothing!  It  is  the  most  ridiculous 
thing!  I  was  only  trying  to  translate  "  fiddle-de-dee  " 
into  Greek!'" 

This  was  in  her  ninety-second  year. 

But  we  are  still  at  the  breakfast  table.  Sometimes 
there  were  guests  at  breakfast,  a  famous  actor,  a  travel- 
ling scholar,  caught  between  other  engagements  for 
this  one  leisure  hour. 

It  was  a  good  deal,  perhaps,  to  ask  people  to  leave 
a  warm  hotel  on  a  January  morning;  but  it  was 
warm  enough  by  the  soft-coal  blaze  of  the  dining- 
room  fire.  Over  the  coffee  and  rolls,  sausages  and 
buckwheat  cakes,  leisure  reigned  supreme;  not  the 
poet's  "retired  leisure,"  but  a  friendly  and  laughter- 
loving  deity.  Everybody  was  full  of  engagements, 
harried  with  work,  pursued  by  business  and  pleasure: 
no  matter!  the  talk  ranged  high  and  far,  and  the 
morning  was  half  gone  before  they  separated. 

Soon  after  breakfast  came  the  game  of  ball,  played 
a  deux  with  daughter  or  grandchild;  the  ball  was  tossed 
back  and  forth,  the  players  counting  meanwhile  up  to 
ten  in  various  languages.  She  delighted  in  adding  to  her 
vocabulary  of  numerals,  and  it  was  a  good  day  when 
she  mastered  those  of  the  Kutch-Kutch  Esquimaux. 


372  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Then  came  the  walk,  gallantly  taken  in  every 
weather  save  the  very  worst.  She  battled  with  the 
west  wind,  getting  the  matter  over  as  quickly  as  might 
be.  "It  is  for  my  life  I"  she  would  say.  But  on  quiet, 
sunny  days  she  loved  to  linger  along  Commonwealth 
Avenue,  watching  the  parade  of  babies  and  little  chil- 
dren, stopping  to  admire  this  one  or  chat  with  that. 

This  function  accomplished,  she  went  straight  to 
her  desk,  and  "P.  T."  reigned  till  noon.  It  was  a  less 
rigorous  "P.  T."  than  that  of  our  childhood.  She  could 
break  off  in  a  moment  now,  give  herself  entirely,  joy- 
ously, to  the  question  of  dinner  for  the  expected  guest, 
of  dress  for  the  afternoon  reception,  then  drop  back 
into  Aristotle  or  iEschylus  with  a  happy  sigh.  It  was 
less  easy  to  break  off  when  she  was  writing;  we  might 
be  begged  for  "half  a  moment,"  as  if  our  time  were 
fully  as  precious  as  her  own;  but  there  was  none  of  the 
distress  that  interruption  brought  in  earlier  years. 
Perhaps  she  took  her  writing  less  seriously.  She  often 
said,  "Oh,  my  dear,  I  am  beginning  to  realize  at  last 
that  I  shall  never  write  my  book  now,  my  Magnum 
Opus,  that  was  to  be  so  great!" 

She  practised  her  scales  faithfully  every  day, 
through  the  later  years.  Then  she  would  play  snatches 
of  forgotten  operas,  and  the  granddaughter  would  hear 
her  —  if  she  thought  no  one  was  near  —  singing  the 
brilliant  arias  in  "a  sweet  thread  of  a  voice." 

After  her  practising,  if  she  were  alone,  she  would  sit 
at  the  window  and  play  her  Twilight  Game :  counting 
the  "passing,"  one  for  a  biped,  two  for  a  quadruped, 
ten  for  a  white  horse,  and  so  on. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    373 

In  the  evening,  before  the  "Victor"  concert,  came  the 
reading  aloud:  this  was  one  of  her  great  pleasures. 
No  history  or  philosophy  for  the  evening  reading;  she 
must  have  a  novel  (not  a  "  problem  novel";  these  she 
detested!)  — a  good  stirring  tale,  with  plenty  of  action 
in  it.  She  thrilled  over  "With  Fire  and  Sword," 
"Kim,"  "The  Master  of  Ballantrae."  She  could  not 
bear  to  hear  of  financial  anxieties  or  of  physical  suf- 
fering.   "It  gives  me  a  pain  in  my  knee!" 

We  see  her  now,  sitting  a  little  forward  in  her 
straight-backed  chair,  holding  the  hand  of  the  reading 
granddaughter,  alert  and  tense.  When  a  catastrophe 
appears  imminent,  "Stop  a  minute!"  she  cries.  "I 
cannot  bear  it!"  —  and  the  reader  must  pause  while 
she  gathers  courage  to  face  disaster  with  the  hero, 
or  dash  with  him  through  peril  to  safety. 

She  would  almost  be  sorry  when  the  doorbell  an- 
nounced a  visitor;  almost,  not  quite,  for  flesh  and 
blood  were  better  than  fiction.  If  the  caller  were  a 
familiar  friend,  how  her  face  lighted  up ! 

"Oh!  now  we  can  have  whist!" 

The  table  is  brought  out,  the  mother-of-pearl  coun- 
ters (a  Cutler  relic:  we  remember  that  Mr.  Ward  did 
not  allow  cards  in  his  house!),  and  the  order  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening  is  "A  clear  fire,  a  clean  hearth,  and 
the  rigor  of  the  game!  "  — 

It  was  a  happy  day  when,  as  chanced  once  or 
twice,  Mr.  Ernest  Schelling,  coming  on  from  New 
York  to  play  with  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra, 
offered  to  come  and  play  to  her,  "all  by  herself,  what- 
ever she  wanted,  and  for  as  long  as  she  liked."  She 


374  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

never  forgot  this  pleasure,  nor  the  warm  kindness  of 
the  giver. 

One  day  Mr.  Abel  Lefranc,  the  French  lecturer  of 
the  year  at  Harvard,  came  to  lunch  with  her.  He 
apologized  for  only  being  able  to  stay  for  the  luncheon 
hour,  owing  to  a  press  of  engagements  and  work  that 
had  grown  overpowering.  He  stayed  for  two  hours  and 
a  half  after  luncheon  was  over,  and  during  all  that 
time  the  flow  of  poignant,  brilliant  talk,  a  deux,  held 
the  third  in  the  little  company  absorbed.  She  was 
entirely  at  home  in  French,  and  the  Frenchman  talked 
over  the  problems  of  his  country  as  if  to  a  compatriot. 

A  few  days  afterwards  a  Baptist  minister  from 
Texas,  a  powerfully  built  and  handsome  man,  came 
to  wait  on  her.  He  also  stayed  two  hours:  and  we 
heard  his  "Amen  !"  and  "Bless  the  Lord  for  that!'* 
and  her  gentler  "  Bless  the  Lord,  indeed,  my  brother!" 
as  their  voices,  fervent  and  grave,  mingled  in  talk. 

She  never  tried  to  be  interested  in  people.  She  was 
interested,  with  every  fibre  of  her  being.  Little  house- 
hold doings :  the  economies  and  efforts  of  brave  young 
people,  she  thrilled  to  them  all.  Indeed,  all  human 
facts  roused  in  her  the  same  absorbed  and  reverent 
interest. 

These  are  Boston  memories,  but  those  of  Oak  Glen 
are  no  less  tender  and  vivid.  There,  too,  the  meals 
were  festivals,  the  midday  dinner  being  now  the  chief 
one,  with  its  following  hour  on  the  piazza;  "Grand- 
mother" in  her  hooded  chair,  with  her  cross-stitch 
embroidery  or  "hooked"  rug,  daughters  and  grand- 
children gathered  round  her.   Horace  and  Xenophon 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    375 

were  on  the  little  table  beside  her,  but  they  must  wait 
till  she  had  mixed  and  enjoyed  her  "social  salad." 

At  Oak  Glen,  too,  she  had  her  novel  and  her  whist, 
bezique  or  dominoes,  as  the  family  was  larger  or 
smaller.  She  never  stooped  to  solitaire;  a  game  must 
be  an  affair  of  companionship,  of  the  "social  tie"  in 
defence  of  which  "Bro'  Sam,"  in  his  youth,  had  pro- 
fessed himself  ready  to  die.  Instead  of  the  "Victor" 
concert,  she  now  made  music  herself,  playing  four- 
hand  pieces  with  Florence,  the  "music  daughter," 
trained  in  childhood  by  Otto  Dresel.  This  was  another 
great  pleasure.  (Did  any  one,  we  wonder,  ever  enjoy 
pleasures  as  she  did?)  These  duets  were  for  the  after- 
noon; she  almost  never  used  her  eyes  in  the  evening. 
They  were  perfectly  good,  strong  eyes;  in  the  latter 
years  she  rarely  used  glasses;  but  the  habit  dated  back 
to  the  early  fifties,  and  might  not  be  shaken. 

We  see  her,  therefore,  in  the  summer  afternoons, 
sitting  at  the  piano  with  Florence,  playing,  "Galatea, 
dry  thy  tears!"  "Handel's  old  tie-wig  music,"  as  she 
called  his  operas.  Or,  if  her  son  were  there,  she  would 
play  accompaniments  from  the  "Messiah"  or  "Eli- 
jah"; rippling  through  the  difficult  music,  transposing 
it,  if  necessary  to  suit  the  singer's  voice,  with  ease  and 
accuracy.  Musicians  said  that  she  was  the  ideal  ac- 
companist, never  asserting  herself,  but  giving  perfect 
sympathy  and  support  to  the  singer. 

We  return  to  the  Journal. 

"January,  1908.  I  had  prayed  the  dear  Father  to 
give  me  this  one  more  poem,  a  verse  for  this  year's 
Decoration  Day,  asked  for  by  Amos  Wells,  of  Chris- 


376  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

tian  Endeavor  belonging.  I  took  my  pen  and  the 
poem  came  quite  spontaneously.  It  seemed  an  answer 
to  my  prayer,  but  I  hold  fast  the  thought  that  the 
great  Christ  asked  no  sign  from  God  and  needed  none, 
so  deeply  did  he  enter  into  life  divine.  I  also  thought, 
regarding  Christ  and  Moses,  that  we  must  be  content 
that  a  certain  mystery  should  envelop  these  heroic 
figures  of  human  history.  Our  small  measuring  tape 
or  rod  is  not  for  them.  If  they  were  not  exactly  in  fact 
what  we  take  them  to  be,  let  us  deeply  reverence  the 
human  mind  which  has  conceived  and  built  up  such 
splendid  and  immortal  ideals.  Was  not  Christ  think- 
ing of  something  like  this  when  he  made  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  and  its  manifestations  the  only  un- 
pardonable error?  He  surely  did  not  mean  to  say  that 
it  was  beyond  the  repentance  which  is  the  earnest  of 
forgiveness  to  every  sin." 

A  day  or  two  after  this  she  met  at  luncheon  "a 
young  Reverend  Mr.  Fitch.  .  .  .  He  is  earnest  and 
clear-minded,  and  should  do  much  good.  I  spoke  of 
the  cup  [of  life],  but  advised  him  to  use  the  spoon  for 
stirring  up  his  congregation." 

She  was  asked  for  a  "long  and  exhaustive  paper  on 
Marion  Crawford  in  about  a  week.  I  wrote,  saying  that 
I  could  furnish  an  interesting  paper  on  the  elder  and 
younger  Crawford,  but  without  any  literary  estimate 
of  Marion's  work,  saying  that  family  praise  was  too 
much  akin  to  self-praise;  also  the  time  allotted  much 
too  short." 

One  night  she  woke  "suddenly  and  something 
seemed  to  say,  'They  are  on  the  right  tack  now.' 


MRS.    HOWE 
From  a  painting  by  John  Elliott,  1908 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    377 

This  microscopic  and  detailed  study  of  the  causes  of 
evil  on  society  will  be  much  forwarded  by  the  direct 
agency  of  women.  They  too  will  supply  that  inex- 
haustible element  of  hopefulness,  without  which  re- 
forms are  a  mere  working  back  and  forth  of  machinery. 
These  two  things  will  overcome  the  evil  of  the  world 
by  prevention  first,  and  then  by  the  optimistic  an- 
ticipation of  good.  This  is  a  great  work  given  to 
Woman  now  to  do.  Then  I  caught  at  various  cou- 
plets of  a  possible  millennial  poem,  but  feared  I 
should  not  write  it.  Have  scrawled  these  on  a  large 
pad.  This  line  kept  coming  back  to  me,  'Living,  not 
dying,  Christ  redeemed  mankind.'.  .  .  This  my  first 
day  at  my  desk  since  Saturday,  March  28.  I  may  try 
some  prose  about  the  present  patient  analysis  of  the 
evil  of  society,  the  patient  intelligent  women  associ- 
ated in  all  this  work.  To  reclaim  waste  earth  is  a  glory. 
Why  not  a  greater  to  reclaim  the  moral  wastes  of 
humanity?" 

This  midnight  vision  impressed  her  deeply,  and 
through  the  succeeding  days  she  wrote  it  out  in  full, 
bit  by  bit.  On  the  envelope  containing  it  is  written, 
"An  account  of  my  vision  of  the  world  regenerated 
by  the  combined  labor  and  love  of  Men  and  Wo- 
men." In  it  she  saw  "men  and  women  of  every  clime 
working  like  bees  to  unwrap  the  evils  of  society  and 
to  discover  the  whole  web  of  vice  and  misery  and 
to  apply  the  remedies,  and  also  to  find  the  influences 
that  should  best  counteract  the  evil  and  its  attendant 
suffering. 

"There  seemed  to  be  a  new,  a  wondrous,  ever- 


378  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

permeating  light,  the  glory  of  which  I  cannot  attempt 
to  put  into  human  words  —  the  light  of  the  newborn 
hope  and  sympathy  —  blazing.  The  source  of  this 
light  was  born  of  human  endeavor.  ..." 

She  saw  "the  men  and  the  women,  standing  side 
by  side,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  a  common  lofty  and  in- 
domitable purpose  lighting  every  face  with  a  glory 
not  of  this  earth.  All  were  advancing  with  one  end 
in  view,  one  foe  to  trample,  one  everlasting  goal  to 
gain 

"And  then  I  saw  the  victory.  All  of  evil  was  gone 
from  the  earth.  Misery  was  blotted  out.  Mankind 
was  emancipated  and  ready  to  march  forward  in  a 
new  Era  of  human  understanding,  all-encompassing 
sympathy  and  ever-present  help,  the  Era  of  perfect 
love,  of  peace  passing  understanding." 

Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  was  in  Boston  this  spring,  and 
there  were  many  pleasant  festivities  in  her  honor. 

A  "luncheon  with  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  at  Annie 
Fields' ;  very  pleasant.  Edward  Emerson  there,  easy 
and  delightful.  .  .  ." 

A  fine  reception  at  the  Vendome,  where  she  and 
Mrs.  Ward  stood  under  "a  beautiful  arch  of  roses" 
and  exchanged  greetings. 

"A  delightful  call  from  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward.  We 
had  much  talk  of  persons  admired  in  England  and 
America.  She  has  great  personal  attraction,  is  not 
handsome,  but  very  * simpalica*  and  is  evidently  whole- 
souled  and  sincere,  with  much  'good-fellowship.'  We 
embraced  at  parting." 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    379 

In  strong  contrast  to  this  is  her  comment  on  a 
writer  whose  work  did  not  appeal  to  her.  "  But  she 
has  merit;  yes,  she  certainly  has  merit.  In  fact  —  " 
with  a  flash — "she  is  meret-ricious ! " 

May  brought  the  Free  Religious  Banquet,  at  which 
she  "compared  the  difference  of  sect  to  the  rainbow 
which  divides  into  its  beauty  the  white  light  of  truth"; 
and  the  State  Federation  of  Women's  Clubs,  where 
another  apt  comparison  occurred  to  her. 

"I  compared  the  old  order  among  women  to  the 
juxtaposition  of  squares  set  cornerwise  to  each  other; 
the  intensity  of  personal  feeling  and  interest  infusing 
an  insensible  antagonism  into  our  relations  with  each 
other.  'Now,'  I  said,  'the  comparison  being  removed, 
we  no  longer  stand  cornerwise  to  each  other,  but  so 
that  we  can  fit  into  line,  and  stand  and  act  in  con- 
cert.'. .  ." 

"Newport.  I  begin  to  feel  something  of  the  'labor 
and  sorrow'  of  living  so  long.  I  don't  even  enjoy  my 
books  as  I  used  to.  My  efforts  to  find  a  fit  word  for 
the  Biennial  [of  the  General  Federation  of  Women's 
Clubs,  to  meet  in  Boston,  June  22  and  23]  are  not 
successful.  ..." 

She  soon  revived  under  her  green  trees,  and  en- 
joyed her  books  as  much  as  ever:  "got  hold  of"  her 
screed,  wrote  it,  went  up  to  Boston  to  deliver  it,  came 
back  to  meet  an  excursion  party  of  "Biennial"  ladies 
visiting  Newport.  (N.B.  She  was  late  for  the  recep- 
tion, and  her  neighbor,  Bradford  Norman,  drove  her 
into  Newport  in  his  automobile  "at  a  terrific  clip." 
On  alighting,  "Braddie,"  she  said,  "if  I  were  ten  years 


380  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

younger,  I  would  set  up  one  of  these  hell-wagons  my- 
self!") 

'  She  enjoyed  all  this  hugely,  but  the  fatigue  was  fol- 
lowed by  distress  so  great  that  the  next  morning  she 
"thought  she  should  die  with  her  door  locked."  (She 
would  lock  her  door :  no  prayers  of  ours  availed  against 
this.  In  Boston,  an  elaborate  arrangement  of  keys 
made  it  possible  for  her  room  to  be  entered;  at  Oak 
Glen  there  was  but  the  one  stout  door.  On  this  occa- 
sion, after  lying  helpless  and  despairing  for  some  time, 
she  managed  to  unlock  the  door  and  call  the  faithful 
maid.) 

On  June  30  she  writes :  — 

"Oh,  beautiful  last  day  of  June!  Perhaps  my  last 
June  on  earth.  ...  I  shall  be  thankful  to  live  as  long 
as  I  can  be  of  comfort  or  help  to  any  one.  .  .  ." 

"July  12.  .  .  .  Sherman  to  Corse  [Civil  War],  'Can 
you  hold  out  till  I  arrive?'  Corse  to  Sherman,  'I  have 
lost  an  arm,  my  cheekbone,  and  am  minus  one  ear, 
but  I  can  lick  all  hell  yet.' " 

"July  30.  Have  felt  so  much  energy  to-day  that 
thought  I  must  begin  upon  my  old  philosophizing 
essays.  .  .  .  Could  find  only  'Duality  of  Character.' 
What  is  the  lesson  of  this  two-foldness?  This,  that  the 
most  excellent  person  should  remember  the  dual  mem- 
ber of  his  or  her  firm,  the  evil  possibility;  and  the  most 
persistent  offender  should  also  remember  the  better 
personality  which  is  bound  up  with  its  opposite,  and 
which  can  come  into  activity,  if  invited  to  do  so." 
»  "August  28.  Wrote  an  immediate  reply  to  a  Mrs. 
,  who  had  written  to  ask  leave  to  use  a  part 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    381 

of  my  'Battle  Hymn'  with  some  verses  of  her  own. 
I  replied,  refusing  this  permission,  but  saying  that 
she  should  rewrite  her  own  part  sufficiently  to  leave 
mine  out,  and  should  not  call  it  the  'Battle  Hymn 
of  the  Republic'  The  metre  and  tune,  of  course, 
she  might  use,  as  they  are  not  mine  in  any  special 
sense,  but  my  phrases  not." 

After  writing  an  article  for  the  "Delineator,"  on 
"What  I  should  like  to  give  my  Country  for  a  Christ- 
mas Gift,"  she  dreads  a  failure  of  her  productive 
power,  but  is  reassured  by  Maud's  verdict.  "I  took 
much  pains  with  it,  but  think  she  overpraises  it  a  little 
to  raise  my  spirits."  The  gift  she  would  choose  was 
"a  more  vigilant  national  conscience."  The  little  essay 
counts  but  seventy  lines,  but  every  word  tells. 

In  early  September  she  performed  a  "very  small 
public  service,"  unveiling  in  Newport  a  bronze  tablet 
in  honor  of  Count  de  Rochambeau.  She  would  have 
been  glad  to  speak,  but  an  anxious  daughter  had 
demurred,  and  at  the  moment  she  "only  thought  of 
pulling  the  string  the  right  way." 

"  September  21.  Green  Peace,  New  York.  A  delightful 
drive  with  Mr.  Seth  Low  in  his  auto.  A  good  talk  with 
him  about  the  multi-millionnaires  and  the  Hague  Con- 
ferences which  he  has  attended.  We  reached  Green 
Peace  in  time  for  Mr.  Frank  Potter  to  sing  about  half 
of  my  songs.  He  has  a  fine  tenor  voice,  well  cultivated, 
and  is  very  kind  about  my  small  compositions.  I  had 
not  counted  upon  this  pleasure.  I  dreaded  this  visit,  for 
the  troublesome  journey,  but  it  has  been  delightful. 
I  am  charmed  to  see  my  son  so  handsomely  and  com- 


382  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

fortably  established,  and  with  a  very  devoted  wife. 
Potter  brought  me  some  flowers  and  a  curious  orchid 
from  Panama." 

"November  3.  Oak  Glen.  Yesterday  and  to-day  have 
had  most  exquisite  sittings  in  front  of  my  house  in  the 
warm  sunshine;  very  closely  wrapped  up  by  the  dear 
care  of  my  daughters." 

These  sittings  were  on  what  she  called  her  boulevard, 
a  grassy  space  in  front  of  the  house,  bordering  on  the 
road,  and  taking  the  full  strength  of  the  morning  sun. 
Here,  with  the  tall  screen  of  cedars  behind  her,  and  a 
nut  tree  spreading  its  golden  canopy  over  her  head,  she 
would  sit  for  hours,  drinking  in  the  sweet  air  that  was 
like  no  other  to  her. 

A  companion  picture  to  this  is  that  of  the  twilight 
hour,  when  she  would  sit  alone  in  the  long  parlor, 
looking  out  on  the  sunset.  Black  against  the  glowing 
sky  rose  the  pines  of  the  tiny  forgotten  graveyard, 
where  long-ago  neighbors  slept,  with  the  white  rose 
tree  drooping  over  the  little  child's  grave;  a  spot  of 
tender  and  melancholy  beauty.  All  about  were  the 
fields  she  loved,  fragrant  with  clover  and  wormwood, 
vocal  with  time-keeping  crickets.  Here  she  would  sit 
for  an  hour,  meditating,  or  repeating  to  herself  the 
Odes  of  Horace,  or  some  familiar  hymn.  Horace  was 
one  of  her  best  friends,  all  her  life  long.  She  knew 
many  of  the  Odes  by  heart,  and  was  constantly  mem- 
orizing new  ones.  They  filled  and  brightened  many 
a  sleepless  or  weary  hour.  Here,  when  the  children 
came  back  from  their  walk,  they  would  find  her,  quiet 
and  serene,  but  ready  instantly  to  break  into  laughter 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    383 

with  them,  to  give  herself,  as  always,  entirely  and 
joyously.  Now  and  then  she  wrote  down  a  medi- 
tation; here  is  one:  — 

"A  thought  comes  to  me  to-day  which  gives  me 
great  comfort.  This  is  that,  while  the  transitory  inci- 
dentals of  our  life,  important  for  the  moment,  pass  out 
of  it,  the  steadfast  divine  life  which  is  in  our  earthly 
experience,  perseveres,  and  can  never  die  nor  dimin- 
ish. I  feel  content  that  much  of  me  should  die.  I 
interpret  for  myself  Christ's  parable  of  the  tares  sown 
in  the  wheat  field.  As  regards  the  individual,  these 
tares  are  our  personal  and  selfish  traits  and  limitations. 
We  must  restrain  and  often  resist  them,  but  we  can- 
not and  must  not  seek  to  eradicate  them,  for  they  are 
important  agents  not  only  in  preserving,  but  also  in 
energizing  our  bodily  life.  Yet  they  are,  compared 
with  our  higher  life,  as  the  tares  compared  with  the 
wheat,  and  we  must  be  well  content  to  feel  that,  when 
the  death  harvest  comes,  these  tares  will  fall  from  us 
and  perish,  while  the  wheat  will  be  gathered  into  the 
granary  of  God. 

"I  do  not  desire  ecstatic,  disembodied  sainthood, 
because  I  do  not  wish  to  abdicate  any  one  of  the  at- 
tributes of  my  humanity.  I  cherish  even  the  infirmities 
that  bind  me  to  my  kind.  I  would  be  human,  and 
American,  and  a  woman.  Paul  of  Tarsus  had  one  or 
two  ecstasies,  but  I  feel  sure  that  he  lived  in  his  hu- 
manity, strenuously  and  energetically.  Indeed,  the  list 
he  gives  us  of  his  trials  and  persecutions  may  show  us 
how  much  he  lived  as  a  man  among  men,  even  though 
he  did  once  cry  out  for  deliverance  from  the  body  of 


384  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

death,  whose  wants  and  pains  were  a  sore  hindrance 
to  him  in  his  unceasing  labors.  That  deliverance  he 
found  daily  in  the  service  of  Truth,  and  finally  once 
for  all,  when  God  took  him. 

"Another  thought  upholds  me.  With  the  recurrence 
of  the  cycle,  I  feel  the  steady  tramp  and  tread  of  the 
world's  progress.  This  Spring  is  not  identical  with  last 
Spring,  this  year  is  not  last  year.  The  predominant 
fact  of  the  Universe  is  not  the  mechanical  round  and 
working  of  its  forces,  but  their  advance  as  moral  life 
develops  out  of  and  above  material  life.  Mysterious 
as  the  chain  of  causation  is,  we  know  one  thing  about 
it,  viz. :  that  we  cannot  reverse  its  sequence.  Whatever 
may  change  or  pass  away,  my  father  remains  my 
father,  my  child,  my  child.  The  way  before  us  is  open 
—  the  way  behind  us  is  blocked  with  solid  building 
which  cannot  be  removed.  And  in  this  great  onward 
order,  life  turns  not  back  to  death,  but  goes  forward 
to  other  life,  which  we  may  call  immortality.  If  I 
would  turn  backward,  I  stand  still  in  paralyzed  opposi- 
tion to  the  mighty  sweep  of  heavenly  law.  It  must  go 
on,  and  if  I  could  resist  and  refuse  to  go  with  it,  I 
should  die  a  moral  death,  having  isolated  myself  from 
the  movement  which  is  life.  But,  do  what  I  will,  I 
cannot  resist  it.  I  am  carried  on  perforce,  as  inanimate 
rocks  and  trees  are  swept  away  in  the  course  of  a 
resistless  torrent.  Shall  I  then  abdicate  my  human 
privilege  which  makes  the  forces  of  nature  Angels  to 
help  and  minister  to  me?  Let  me,  instead,  take  hold 
of  the  guiding  cords  of  life  with  resolute  hands  and 
press  onward,  following  the  illustrious  army  whose 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    385 

crowned  chiefs  have  gone  before.  They  too  had  their 
weakness,  their  sorrow,  their  sin.  But  they  are  set 
as  stars  in  the  firmament  of  God,  and  their  torches 
flash  heavenly  light  upon  our  doubtful  way,  ay,  even 
upon  the  mysterious  bridge  whose  toll  is  silence.  Be- 
yond that  silence  reigns  the  perfect  harmony." 

"November  6.  Expecting  to  leave  this  dear  place 
to-morrow  before  noon,  I  write  one  last  record  in  this 
diary  to  say  that  I  am  very  thankful  for  the  season 
just  at  end,  which  has  been  busy  and  yet  restful.  I 
have  seen  old  friends  and  new  ones,  all  with  pleasure, 
and  mostly  with  profit  of  a  social  and  spiritual  kind. 
I  have  seen  dear  little  Eleanor  Hall,  the  sweetest  of 
babies.  Have  had  all  of  my  dear  children  with  me, 
some  of  my  grandchildren,  and  four  of  my  great- 
grands. 

" Our  Papeterie  has  had  pleasant  meetings.  .  .  .  lam 
full  of  hope  for  the  winter.  Have  had  a  long  season 
of  fresh  air,  delightful  and  very  invigorating.  .  .  . 
Utinam !  Gott  in  Himmel  set  Dank  /" 

"November  £8.  Boston.  Have  been  much  troubled 
of  late  by  uncertainties  about  life  beyond  the  present. 
Quite  suddenly,  very  recently,  it  occurred  to  me  to  con- 
sider that  Christ  understood  that  spiritual  life  would 
not  end  with  death,  and  that  His  expressed  certainty 
as  to  the  future  life  was  founded  upon  His  discernment 
of  spiritual  things.  So,  in  so  far  as  I  am  a  Christian, 
I  must  believe  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  as  our 
Master  surely  did.  I  cannot  understand  why  I  have 
not  thought  of  that  before.  I  think  now  that  I  shall 
nevermore  lose  sight  of  it.  .  .  .  Had  a  very  fine  call 


386  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

from  Mr.  Locke,  author  of  the  'Beloved  Vagabond,' 
a  book  which  I  have  enjoyed." 

"December  5.  ...  I  learned  to-day  that  my  dear 
friend  of  many  years  [the  Reverend  Mary  H.  Graves] 
passed  away  last  night  very  peacefully.  .  .  .  This  is 
a  heart  sorrow  for  me.  She  has  been  a  most  faith- 
ful, affectionate  and  helpful  friend.  I  scarcely  know 
whether  any  one,  outside  of  my  family,  would  have 
pained  me  more  by  their  departure.  .  .  ." 

This  was  indeed  a  loss.  "Saint  Mouse,"  as  we 
called  her,  was  a  familiar  friend  of  the  household: 
a  little  gray  figure,  with  the  face  of  a  plain  angel. 
For  many  years  she  had  been  the  only  person  who  was 
allowed  to  touch  our  mother's  papers.  She  often  came 
for  a  day  or  two  and  straightened  out  the  tangle.  She 
was  the  only  approach  to  a  secretary  ever  tolerated. 

We  used  to  grieve  because  our  mother  had  no  first- 
rate  "Crutch";  it  seemed  a  waste  of  power.  Now, 
we  see  that  it  was  partly  the  instinct  of  self-preserva- 
tion, —  keeping  the  "doing"  muscles  tense  and  strong, 
because  action  was  vital  and  necessary  to  her  —  part- 
ly the  still  deeper  instinct  of  giving  her  self,  body 
and  mind.  She  seldom  failed  in  any  important  thing 
she  undertook;  the  "chores"  of  life  she  often  left  for 
others  to  attend  to  or  neglect. 

The  Christmas  services,  the  Christmas  oratorio, 
brought  her  the  usual  serene  joy  and  comfort.  She 
insists  that  Handel  wrote  parts  of  the  "  Messiah  "  in 
heaven  itself.  "Where  else  could  he  have  got  'Com- 
fort ye,'  'Thy  rebuke,'  'Thou  shalt  break  them,' and 
much  besides?" 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    387 

Late  in  December,  1908,  came  the  horror  of  the 
Sicilian  earthquake.  She  felt  at  first  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  reconcile  omnipotence  and  perfect  benevo- 
lence with  this  catastrophe. 

"We  must  hold  judgment  in  suspense  and  say,  'We 
don't  and  we  can't  understand.' " 

She  had  several  tasks  on  hand  this  winter,  among 
them  a  poem  for  the  Centenary  of  Lincoln's  birth. 
On  February  7  she  writes :  — 

"After  a  time  of  despair  about  the  poem  for  the 
Lincoln  Centenary  some  lines  came  to  me  in  the  early 
morning.  I  arose,  wrapped  myself  warmly,  and  wrote 
what  I  could,  making  quite  a  beginning." 

She  finished  the  poem  next  day,  and  on  the  12th 
she  went  "with  three  handsome  grandchildren"  to  de- 
liver it  at  Symphony  Hall  before  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic  and  their  friends. 

"The  police  had  to  make  an  entrance  for  us.  I  was 
presently  conducted  to  my  seat  on  the  platform.  The 
hall  was  crammed  to  its  utmost  capacity.  I  had  felt 
doubts  of  the  power  of  my  voice  to  reach  so  large  a 
company,  but  strength  seemed  to  be  given  to  me  at 
once,  and  I  believe  that  I  was  heard  very  well.  T.  W. 
H.  [Colonel  Higginson]  came  to  me  soon  after  my 
reading  and  said,  'You  have  been  a  good  girl  and 
behaved  yourself  well.' " 

The  next  task  was  an  essay  on  "Immortality," 
which  cost  her  much  labor  and  anxious  thought. 

"March  3.  .  .  .  Got  at  last  some  solid  ground  for 
my  screed  on  'Immortality.'  Our  experience  of  the 
goodness  of  God  in  our  daily  life  assures  us  of  His 


388  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

mercy  hereafter,  and  seeing  God  everywhere,  we  shall 
dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  forever." 

"March  27.  I  am  succeeding  better  with  my  'Im- 
mortality' paper.  Had  to-day  a  little  bit  of  visioning 
with  which  I  think  that  I  would  willingly  depart,  when 
my  time  comes.  The  dreadful  fear  of  being  buried 
alive  disappeared  for  a  time,  and  I  saw  only  the  good- 
ness of  God,  to  which  it  seemed  that  I  could  trust  all 
question  of  the  future  life.  I  said  to  myself  —  'The 
best  will  be  for  thee  and  me.'  " 

It  was  in  this  mood  that  she  wrote:  — 

"I,  for  one,  feel  that  my  indebtedness  grows  with 
my  years.  And  it  occurred  to  me  the  other  day  that 
when  I  should  depart  from  this  earthly  scene,  '  God's 
poor  Debtor '  might  be  the  fittest  inscription  for  my 
gravestone,  if  I  should  have  one.  So  much  have  I  re- 
ceived from  the  great  Giver,  so  little  have  I  been  able 
to  return." 

"April  5.  .  .  .  Heard  May  Alden  Ward,  N.E.W.C., 
on  'Current  Events.'  Praecipue  tariff  reform.  Pro- 
posed a  small  group  to  study  the  question  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  consumer.  What  to  protect  and 
how?  American  goods  cheaper  in  Europe  than  here. 
Blank  tells  me  of  pencils  made  here  for  a  foreign  market 
and  sold  in  Germany  and  England  at  a  price  impossible 
here.  I  said  that  the  real  bottomless  pit  is  the  depth 
of  infamous  slander  with  which  people  will  assail  our 
public  servants,  especially  when  they  are  faithful  and 
incorruptible,  apropos  of  aspersions  cast  on  Roosevelt 
and  Taft.  Mrs.  Ward  read  a  very  violent  attack  upon 
some  public  man  of  a  hundred  or  more  years  ago. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    389 

He  was  quoted  as  a  monster  of  tyranny  and  injustice. 
His  name  was  George  Washington." 

"April  8.  .  .  .  My  prayer  for  this  Easter  is  that  I 
may  not  waste  the  inspiration  of  spring.  .  .  ." 

In  these  days  came  another  real  sorrow  to  her. 

"April  10.  To-day  brings  the  sad  news  of  Marion 
Crawford's  death  at  Sorrento.  His  departure  seems  to 
have  been  a  peaceful  one.  He  comforted  his  family 
and  had  his  daughter  Eleanor  read  Plato's  'Dialogues' 
to  him.  Was  unconscious  at  the  last.  Poor  dear  Ma- 
rion !  The  end,  in  his  case,  comes  early.  His  father  was, 
I  think,  in  the  early  forties  when  he  died  of  a  cancer 
behind  the  eye  which  caused  blindness.  He,  Thomas 
Crawford,  had  a  long  and  very  distressing  illness." 

Crawford  had  been  very  dear  to  her,  ever  since  the 
days  when,  a  radiant  schoolboy,  he  came  and  went  in 
his  vacations.  There  was  a  complete  sympathy  and 
understanding  between  them,  and  there  were  few 
people  whom  she  enjoyed  more. 

"  I  wrote  a  letter  to  be  read,  if  approved,  to-morrow 
evening  at  the  Faneuil  Hall  meeting  held  to  advocate 
the  revision  of  our  extradition  treaty  with  the  Rus- 
sian Government,  which  at  present  seems  to  allow 
that  government  too  much  latitude  of  incrimination, 
whereby  political  and  civil  offences  can  too  easily 
be  confused  and  a  revolutionist  surrendered  as  a 
criminal,  which  he  may  or  may  not  be.'* 

Later  in  the  month  she  writes :  — 

"In  the  early  morning  I  began  to  feel  that  I  must 
attempt  some  sort  of  tribute  to  my  dear  friend  of 
many  years,  Dr.  Holmes,  the  centenary  of  whose  birth 


390  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

is  to  be  celebrated  on  Tuesday  next.  I  stayed  at  home 
from  church  to  follow  some  random  rhymes  which 
came  to  me  in  connection  with  my  remembrance  of  my 
ever  affectionate  friend.  I  love  to  think  of  his  beau- 
tiful service  to  his  age  and  to  future  ages.  I  fear  that 
my  rhymes  will  fail  to  crystallize,  but  sometimes  a 
bad  beginning  leads  to  something  better.  ..." 

The  poem  was  finished,  more  or  less  to  her  satisfac- 
tion, but  she  was  weary  with  working  over  it,  and 
with  "reading  heavy  books,  Max  Mliller  on  meta- 
physics, Blanqui  on  political  economy." 

"May  10.  I  began  this  day  the  screed  of  'Values' 
which  I  mentioned  the  other  day.  I  have  great  hopes 
of  accomplishing  something  useful,  remembering,  as 
I  do,  with  sore  indignation,  my  own  mistakes,  and 
desiring  to  help  young  people  to  avoid  similar  ones." 

The  ninetieth  birthday  was  a  festival,  indeed.  Let- 
ters and  telegrams  poured  in,  rose  in  toppling  piles 
which  almost  —  not  quite  —  daunted  her;  she  would 
hear  every  one,  would  answer  as  many  as  flesh  and 
blood  could  compass.    Here  is  one  of  them:  — 

Most  hearty  congratulations  on  your  ninetieth  birth- 
day from  the  boy  you  picked  up  somewhere  in  New 
York  and  placed  in  the  New  York  Orphan  Asylum  on 
April  6th,  1841.  Sorry  I  have  never  been  able  to  meet 
you  in  all  that  time.  You  [were]  one  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees  at  that  time. 

Respectfully  and  Thankfully, 

Wm.  Davidson. 
I  was  then  about  five  years  old,  now  seventy-three. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    391 

Writing  to  her  friend  of  many  years,  Mrs.  Ellen 
Mitchell,  she  says :  — 

"Your  birthday  letter  was  and  is  much  valued  by 
me.  Its  tone  of  earnest  affection  is  an  element  in  the 
new  inspiration  recently  given  me  by  such  a  wonderful 
testimony  of  public  and  private  esteem  and  goodwill 
as  has  been  granted  me  in  connection  with  my  attain- 
ment of  ninety  years.  It  all  points  to  the  future.  I 
must  work  to  deserve  what  I  have  received.  My 
dearest  wish  would  be  to  take  up  some  thread  of  our 
A.A.W.  work,  and  continue  it.  I  rather  hope  that  I 
may  find  the  way  to  do  this  in  the  study  of  Economics 
which  I  am  just  starting  with  a  small  group.  ..." 

To  Mrs.  Harriet  Prescott  Spojford 

Dear  Mrs.  Spofford,  — 

You  wrote  me  a  lovely  letter  on  my  ninetieth  birth- 
day. I  cannot  help  feeling  as  if  the  impression  ex- 
pressed by  you  and  so  many  other  kind  friends  of  my 
personal  merits  must  refer  to  some  good  work  which  I 
have  yet  to  do.  What  I  have  done  looks  small  to  me, 
but  I  have  tried  a  good  deal  for  the  best  I  have  known. 
This  is  all  I  can  say.  I  am  much  touched  by  your  let- 
ter, and  encouraged  to  go  on  trying.  Don't  you  think 
that  the  best  things  are  already  in  view?  The  oppor- 
tunities for  women,  the  growing  toleration  and  sym- 
pathy in  religion,  the  sacred  cause  of  peace?  I  have 
lived,  like  Moses,  to  see  the  entrance  into  the  Prom- 
ised Land.  How  much  is  this  to  be  thankful  for!  My 
crabbed  hand  shows  how  Time  abridges  my  working 


392  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

powers,  but  I  march  to  the  brave  music  still,  as  you 
and  many  of  the  juniors  do. 

Wishing  that  I  might  sometimes  see  you,  believe  me 
Yours  with  affectionate  regard, 

Julia  Ward  Howe. 

Close  upon  the  Birthday  came  another  occasion  of 
the  kind  which  we  —  in  these  later  years  —  at  once 
welcomed  and  deplored.  She  enjoyed  nothing  so  much 
as  a  "function,"  and  nothing  tired  her  so  much. 

On  June  16,  Brown  University,  her  husband's  alma 
mater  and  her  grandfather's,  conferred  upon  her  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  She  went  to  Providence 
to  receive  it  in  person,  and  thus  describes  the  com- 
mencement exercises  to  Mrs.  Mitchell:  — 

"The  ordeal  of  the  Doctorate  was  rather  trying,  but 
was  made  as  easy  as  possible  for  me.  The  venerable 
old  church  was  well  rilled,  and  was  quite  beautiful. 
I  sat  in  one  of  the  front  pews  —  two  learned  people 
led  me  to  the  foot  of  the  platform  from  which  President 
Faunce,  with  some  laudatory  remarks,  handed  me  my 
diploma,  while  some  third  party  placed  a  picturesque 
hood  upon  my  shoulders.  The  band  played  the  air 
of  my  *  Battle  Hymn,'  and  applause  followed  me  as  I 
went  back  to  my  seat.   So  there!  " 

Her  companion  on  that  occasion  writes :  — 

"She  sat  listening  quietly  to  the  addresses,  watched 
each  girl  and  boy  just  starting  on  the  voyage  of  life  as 
they  marched  to  the  platform  and  received  from  the 
President's  hand  the  scrap  of  paper,  the  parchment 
diploma,  reward  of  all  their  studies.   Her  name  was 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    393 

called  last.  With  the  deliberate  step  of  age,  she  walked 
forward,  wearing  her  son's  college  gown  over  her  white 
dress,  his  mortar-board  cap  over  her  lace  veil.  She 
seemed  less  moved  than  any  person  present;  she 
could  not  see  what  we  saw,  the  tiny  gallant  figure  bent 
with  fourscore  and  ten  years  of  study  and  hard  labor. 
As  she  moved  between  the  girl  students  who  stood  up 
to  let  her  pass,  she  whispered,  'How  tall  they  are!  It 
seems  to  me  the  girls  are  much  taller  than  they  used 
to  be.'  Did  she  realize  how  much  shorter  she  was  than 
she  once  had  been?  I  think  not. 

"Then,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  fun  while  all  other 
eyes  were  wet,  she  shook  her  hard-earned  diploma 
with  a  gay  gesture  in  the  faces  of  those  girls,  cast  on 
them  a  keen  glance  that  somehow  was  a  challenge, 
'Catch  up  with  me  if  you  can!' 

"She  had  labored  long  for  the  higher  education  of 
women,  suffered  estrangement,  borne  ridicule  for  it  — 
the  sight  of  those  girl  graduates,  starting  on  their  life 
voyage  equipped  with  a  good  education,  was  like  a 
sudden  realization  of  a  life-long  dream;  uplifted  her, 
gave  her  strength  for  the  fatigues  of  the  day.  At  the 
dinner  given  for  her  and  the  college  dignitaries  by 
Mrs.  William  Goddard,  she  was  at  her  best." 

She  was  asked  for  a  Fourth  of  July  message  to  the 
Sunday-School  children  of  the  Congregational  Church, 
and  wrote :  — 

"I  want  them  to  build  up  character  in  themselves 
and  in  the  community,  to  give  to  the  country  just  so 
many  men  and  women  who  will  be  incapable  of  mean- 
ness or  dishonesty,  who  will  look  upon  life  as  a  sacred 


394  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

trust,  given  to  them  for  honorable  service  to  their 
fellow  men  and  women.  I  would  have  them  feel  that, 
whether  rich  or  poor,  they  are  bound  to  be  of  use  in 
their  day  and  generation,  and  to  be  mindful  of  the 
Scripture  saying  that  'no  man  liveth  unto  himself.* 
We  all  have  our  part  to  do  in  keeping  up  the  character 
and  credit  of  our  country.  For  her  sake  we  should 
study  to  become  good  and  useful  citizens." 

In  the  summer  of  1909  the  Cretan  question  came  up 
again.  Once  more  Turkey  attempted  to  regain  active 
possession  of  Crete;  once  more  the  voice  of  Christen- 
dom was  raised  in  protest.  She  had  no  thought  this 
time  of  being  "too  old."  Being  called  upon  for  help, 
she  wrote  at  once  to  President  Taft,  "praying  him  to 
find  some  way  to  help  the  Cretans  in  the  terrible  pros- 
pect of  their  being  delivered  over,  bound  hand  and 
foot,  to  Turkish  misrule."  She  was  soon  gladdened  by 
a  reply  from  the  President,  saying  that  he  had  not 
considered  the  Cretans  as  he  should,  but  promising  to 
send  her  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  State.  "I  thank  God 
most  earnestly,"  she  writes,  "for  even  thus  much. 
To-day,  I  feel  that  I  must  write  all  pressing  letters, 
as  my  time  may  be  short." 

Accordingly  she  composed  an  open  letter  on  the 
Cretan  question.  "It  is  rather  crude,  but  it  is  from 
my  heart  of  hearts.  I  had  to  write  it." 

Suffrage,  too,  had  its  share  of  her  attention  this 
summer.  There  were  meetings  at  "Marble  House" 
[Newport]  in  which  she  was  deeply  interested.  She  at- 
tended one  in  person;  to  the  next  she  sent  the  second 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    395 

and  third  generations,  staying  at  home  herself  to  amuse 
and  care  for  the  fourth. 

On  the  last  day  of  August  she  records  once  more 
her  sorrow  at  the  departure  of  the  summer.  She  adds, 
"God  grant  me  to  be  prepared  to  live  or  die,  as  He 
shall  decree.  It  is  best,  I  think,  to  anticipate  life,  and 
to  cultivate  forethought.  ...  I  think  it  may  have  been 
to-day  that  I  read  the  last  pages  of  Martineau's  '  Seat 
of  Authority  in  Religion,'  an  extremely  valuable  book, 
yet  a  painful  one  to  read,  so  entirely  does  it  do  away 
with  the  old-time  divinity  of  the  dear  Christ.  But  it 
leaves  Him  the  divinity  of  character  —  no  theory  or 
discovery  can  take  that  away." 

Late  September  brought  an  occasion  to  which  she 
had  looked  forward  with  mingled  pleasure  and  dread; 
the  celebration  of  the  Hudson-Fulton  Centennial  in 
New  York.  She  had  been  asked  for  a  poem,  and  had 
taken  great  pains  with  it,  writing  and  re-writing  it, 
hammering  and  polishing.  She  thought  it  finished  in 
July,  yet  two  days  before  the  celebration  she  was  still 
re-touching  it. 

"I  have  been  much  dissatisfied  with  my  Fulton 
poem.  Lying  down  to  rest  this  afternoon,  instead  of 
sleep,  of  which  I  felt  no  need,  I  began  to  try  for  some 
new  lines  which  should  waken  it  up  a  little,  and  think 
that  I  succeeded.  I  had  brought  no  manuscript  paper, 
so  had  to  scrawl  my  amendments  on  Sanborn's  old  long 
envelope." 

Later  in  the  day  two  more  lines  came  to  her,  and 
again  two  the  day  after.  Finally,  on  the  morning  of  the 
day  itself,  on  awakening,  she  cried  out,  — 


396  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"I  have  got  my  last  verse!" 

The  occasion  was  a  notable  one.  The  stage  of  the 
Metropolitan  Opera  House  was  filled  with  dignitaries, 
delegates  from  other  States,  foreign  diplomats  in 
brilliant  uniforms.  The  only  woman  among  them  was 
the  little  figure  in  white,  to  greet  whom,  as  she  came 
forward  on  her  son's  arm,  the  whole  great  assembly 
rose  and  stood.  They  remained  standing  while  she 
read  her  poem  in  clear  unfaltering  tones;  the  applause 
that  rang  out  showed  that  she  had  once  more  touched 
the  heart  of  the  public. 

This  poem  was  printed  in  "Collier's  Weekly,"  un- 
fortunately from  a  copy  made  before  the  "last  verse" 
was  finished  to  her  mind.  This  distressed  her.  "Let 
this  be  a  lesson!"  she  said.  "Never  print  a  poem  or 
speech  till  it  has  been  delivered;  always  give  the 
eleventh  hour  its  chance!" 

This  eleventh  hour  brought  a  very  special  chance; 
a  few  days  before,  the  world  had  been  electrified  by 
the  news  of  Peary's  discovery  of  the  North  Pole:  it 
was  the  general  voice  that  cried  through  her  lips,  — 

The  Flag  of  Freedom  crowns  the  Pole! 

The  following  letter  was  written  while  she  was  at 
work  on  the  poem :  — 

To  Laura 

Oak  Glen,  July  9,  1909. 

Why,  yes,  I  'm  doing  the  best  I  know  how.  Have 
written  a  poem  for  the  Hudson  and  Fulton  celebration, 
September  28.   Worked  hard  at  it.    Guess  it's  only 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE   REPUBLIC    397 

pretty  good,  if  even  that.  Maud  takes  me  out  every- 
day under  the  pine  tree,  makes  me  sit  while  she  reads 
aloud  Freeman's  shorter  work  on  Sicily.  I  enjoy  this. 
...  I  have  just  read  Froude's  "  Caesar,"  which  San- 
born says  he  hates,  but  which  I  found  as  readable  as 
a  novel.  Am  also  reading  a  work  of  Kuno  Fischer  on 
"  Philosophy,"  especially  relating  to  Descartes.  Now 
you  know,  Miss,  or  should  know,  that  same  had  great 
fame,  and  sometimes  blame,  as  a  philosopher.  But 
he  don't  make  no  impression  on  my  mind.  I  never 
doubted  that  I  was,  so  don't  need  no  "  cogito,  ergo 
sum,"  which  is  what  Carty,  old  Boy,  amounts  to.  Your 
letter,  dear,  was  a  very  proper  attention  under  the 
circumstances.  Should  n't  object  to  another.  Lemme 
see!  objects  cannot  be  subjects,  nor  vice  versa.  How  do 
you  know  that  you  washed  your  face  this  morning? 
You  don't  know  it,  and  I  don't  believe  that  you  did. 
You  might  consult  H.  Richards  about  some  of  these 
particulars.  He  is  a  man  of  some  sense.  You  are,  bless 
you,  not  much  wiser  than  your  affectionate 

Ma. 
Returned  to  Oak  Glen,  after  the  celebration,  she 
writes :  — 

To  her  son  and  his  wife 

Oak  Glen,  October  1, 1909. 
...  I  found  my  trees  still  green,  and  everything 
comfortable.  I  did  not  dare  to  write  to  any  one  yes- 
terday, my  head  was  so  full  of  nonsense.  Reaction 
from  brain-fatigue  takes  this  shape  with  me,  and  ev- 
erything  goes  "  higgle-wiggledy,  hi-cockalorum,"  or 


398  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

words  to  that  effect.  .  .  .  We  had  a  delightful  visit  with 
you,  dear  F.  G.  and  H.  M.  I  miss  you  both,  and  miss 
the  lovely  panorama  of  the  hills,  and  the  beauteous 
flower  parterres.  Well,  here  's  for  next  year  in  early 
Autumn,  and  I  hope  I  may  see  you  both  before  that 
time.  With  thanks  for  kindest  entertainment,  and 
best  of  love, 

Your  very  affectionate 

Mother  and  ditto-in -law. 

To  George  H.  Richards  1 

Oak  Glen,  October  1, 1909. 
Dear  Uncle  George,  — 

I  got  through  all  right,  in  spite  of  prospective  views, 
of  fainting  fits,  apoplexy,  what  not?  Trouble  is  now 
that  I  cannot  keep  calling  up  some  thousands  of  people, 
and  saying:  "Admire  me,  do.  I  wrote  it  all  my  little 
own  self."  Seriously,  there  is  a  little  reaction  from  so 
much  excitement.  But  I  hope  to  recover  my  senses  in 
time.  I  improved  the  last  two  stanzas  much  when  I 
recited  the  poem.  The  last  line  read 

The  Flag  of  Freedom  crowns  the  Pole! 

I  tell  you,  I  brought  it  out  with  a  will,  and  they  all 
[the  audience]  made  a  great  noise.  .  .  . 

We  doubt  if  any  of  the  compliments  pleased  her  so 
much  as  that  of  the  Irish  charwoman  who,  mop  in 
hand,  had  been  listening  at  one  of  the  side  doors  of 

1  Her  man  of  business  and  faithful  friend.  Though  of  her  children's 
generation,  she  had  adopted  him  as  an  "uncle." 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    399 

the  theatre.  "Oh,  you  dear  little  old  lady!"  she  cried. 
"You  speaked  your  piece  real  good!" 

Late  October  finds  her  preparing  for  the  move  to 
Boston. 

"I  have  had  what  I  may  call  a  spasm  of  gratitude 
to  God  for  His  great  goodness  to  me,  sitting  in  my 
pleasant  little  parlor,  with  the  lovely  golden  trees  in 
near  view,  and  the  devotion  of  my  children  and  great 
kindness  of  my  friends  well  in  mind.  Oh!  help  me, 
divine  Father,  to  merit  even  a  very  little  of  Thy  kind- 
ness!" 

In  this  autumn  she  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Letters,  and  in  De- 
cember she  wrote  for  its  first  meeting  a  poem  called 
"The  Capitol."  She  greatly  desired  to  read  this  poem 
before  the  association,  and  Maud,  albeit  with  many 
misgivings,  agreed  to  take  her  on  to  Washington. 
This  was  not  to  be.  On  learning  of  her  intention,  three 
officers  of  the  association,  William  Dean  Howells, 
Robert  Underwood  Johnson,  and  Thomas  Nelson 
Page,  sent  her  a  "round-robin"  telegram,  begging  her 
not  to  run  the  risk  of  the  long  winter  journey.  The 
kindly  suggestion  was  not  altogether  well  taken. 
"Ha!"  she  flashed  out.  "They  think  I  am  too  old, 
but  there 's  a  little  ginger  left  in  the  old  blue  jar!" 

She  soon  realized  the  wisdom  as  well  as  the  friendli- 
ness of  the  round  robin,  and  confided  to  the  Journal 
that  she  had  been  in  two  minds  about  it. 

On  Christmas  Day  she  writes :  — 

"Thanks  to  God  who  gave  us  the  blessed  Christ. 
What  a  birth  was  this!  Two  thousand  years  have  only 


400  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

increased  our  gratitude  for  it.  How  it  has  consecrated 
Babyhood  and  Maternity!  Two  infants,  grown  to 
man's  estate,  govern  the  civilized  world  to-day,  Christ 
and  Moses.  I  am  still  thankful  to  be  here  in  the  flesh, 
as  they  were  once,  and  oh!  that  I  may  never  pass 
where  they  are  not!" 

The  winter  of  1909-10  was  a  severe  one,  and  she 
was  more  or  less  housed;  yet  the  days  were  full  and 
bright  for  her.  "Life,"  she  cried  one  day,  "is  like  a 
cup  of  tea;  all  the  sugar  is  at  the  bottom!"  and  again, 
"Oh!  I  must  go  so  soon,  and  I  am  only  just  ready  to 
go  to  college!" 

When  it  was  too  cold  for  her  to  go  out,  she  took  her 
walk  in  the  house,  with  the  windows  open,  pacing 
resolutely  up  and  down  her  room  and  the  room  oppo- 
site. She  sat  long  hours  at  her  desk,  in  patient  toil. 
She  was  always  picking  up  dropped  stitches,  trying  to 
keep  every  promise,  answer  every  note. 

"Went  through  waste-paper  basket,  redeeming  some 
bits  torn  to  fragments,  which  either  should  be  answered 
or  recorded.  Wrote  an  autograph  for  Mr.  Blank.  It 
was  asked  for  in  1905.  Had  been  put  away  and  for- 
gotten." 

She  got  too  tired  that  morning,  and  could  not  fully 
enjoy  the  Authors'  Club  in  the  afternoon. 

"Colonel  Higginson  and  I  sat  like  two  superannu- 
ated old  idols.  Each  of  us  said  a  little  say  when  the 
business  was  finished." 

It  is  not  recalled  that  they  presented  any  such 
appearance  to  others. 

She  went  to  the  opera,  a  mingled  pleasure  and  pain. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    401 

"It  was  the  'Huguenots/  much  of  which  was  known 
to  me  in  early  youth,  when  I  used  to  sing  the  'Rata- 
plan '  chorus  with  my  brothers.  I  sang  also  Valentine's 
prayer,  'Parmi  les  fleurs  mon  reve  se  ranime,'  with  obli- 
gate bassoon  accompaniment,  using  the  'cello  instead. 
I  know  that  I  sang  much  better  that  night  than  usual, 
for  dear  Uncle  John  said  to  me,  'You  singed  good!' 
Poor  Huti  played  the  'cello.  Now,  I  listened  for  the  fa- 
miliar bits,  and  recognized  the  drinking  chorus  in  Act 
1st,  the  'Rataplan'  in  Act  2d.  Valentine's  prayer,  if 
given,  was  so  overlaid  with  fioritura  that  I  did  not  feel 
sure  of  it.  The  page's  pretty  song  was  all  right,  but  I 
suffered  great  fatigue,  and  the  reminiscences  were  sad." 

Through  the  winter  she  continued  the  study  of 
economics  with  some  fifteen  members  of  the  New 
England  Woman's  Club.  She  read  Bergson  too,  and 
now  and  then  "got  completely  bogged"  in  him,  find- 
ing no  "central  point  that  led  anywhere." 

About  this  time  she  wrote :  — 

"Some  Rules  for  Everyday  Life 

"1.  Begin  every  day  with  a  few  minutes  of  retired 
meditation,  tending  to  prayer,  in  order  to  feel  within 
yourself  the  spiritual  power  which  will  enable  you  to 
answer  the  demands  of  practical  life. 

"2.  Cultivate  systematic  employment  and  learn  to 
estimate  correctly  the  time  required  to  accomplish 
whatever  you  may  undertake. 

"3.  Try  to  occupy  both  your  mind  and  your 
muscles,  since  each  of  these  will  help  the  other,  and 
both  deteriorate  without  sufficient  exercise. 


402  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

"4.  Remember  that  there  is  great  inherent  selfish- 
ness in  human  nature,  and  train  yourself  to  consider 
adequately  the  advantage  and  pleasure  of  others. 

"5.  Be  thankful  to  be  useful. 

"6.  Try  to  ascertain  what  are  real  uses,  and  to  fol- 
low such  maxims  and  methods  as  will  stand  the  test 
of  time,  and  not  fail  with  the  passing  away  of  a  tran- 
sient enthusiasm. 

"7.  Be  neither  over  distant  nor  over  familiar  in 
your  intercourse;  friendly  rather  than  confidential; 
not  courting  responsibility,  but  not  declining  it  when 
it  of  right  belongs  to  you. 

"8.  Be  careful  not  to  falsify  true  principles  by  a 
thoughtless  and  insufficient  application  of  them. 

"9.  Though  actions  of  high  morality  ensure  in  the 
end  the  greatest  success,  yet  view  them  in  the  light  of 
obligation,  not  in  that  of  policy. 

"  10.  Whatever  your  talents  may  be,  consider  your- 
self as  belonging  to  the  average  of  humanity,  since, 
even  if  superior  to  many  in  some  respects,  you  will  be 
likely  to  fall  below  them  in  others. 

"11.  Remember  the  Christian  triad  of  virtues. 
Have  faith  in  principles,  hope  in  God,  charity  with  and 
for  all  mankind." 

A  windy  March  found  her  "rather  miserably  ail- 
ing." Dr.  Langmaid  came,  and  pronounced  her 
lungs  "sound  as  a  bass  drum";  nothing  amiss  save 
a  throat  irritated  by  wind  and  dust.  Thereupon  she 
girded  herself  and  buckled  to  her  next  task,  a  poem 
for  the  centenary  of  James  Freeman  Clarke. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    403 

"I  have  despaired  of  a  poem  which  people  seem  to 
expect  from  me  for  the  dear  James  Freeman's  cen- 
tennial. To-day  the  rhymes  suddenly  flowed,  but  the 
thought  is  difficult  to  convey  —  the  reflection  of  heaven 
in  his  soul  is  what  he  gave,  and  what  he  left  us." 

"April  1.  Very  much  tossed  up  and  down  about  my 
poem.  .  .  ." 

"April  2.  Was  able  at  last,  D.G.,  to  make  the  poem 
explain  itself.  Rosalind,  my  incorruptible  critic,  was 
satisfied  with  it.  I  think  and  hope  that  all  my  trouble 
has  been  worth  while.  I  bestowed  it  most  unwillingly, 
having  had  little  hope  that  I  could  make  my  figure  of 
speech  intelligible.  I  am  very  thankful  for  this  poem, 
cannot  be  thankful  enough." 

This  was  her  third  tribute  to  the  beloved  Minister, 
and  is,  perhaps,  the  best  of  the  three.  The  thought 
which  she  found  so  difficult  of  conveyance  is  thus 
expressed :  — 

Lifting  from  the  Past  its  veil, 
.    What  of  his  does  now  avail? 
Just  a  mirror  in  his  breast 
That  revealed  a  heavenly  guest, 
And  the  love  that  made  us  free 
Of  the  same  high  company. 
These  he  brought  us,  these  he  left, 
When  we  were  of  him  bereft. 


She  thus  describes  the  occasion :  — 

"Coughed  in  the  night,  and  at  waking  suffered  much 
in  mind,  fearing  that  a  wild  fit  of  coughing  might  make 
my  reading  unacceptable  and  even  ridiculous.  Imagine 
my  joy  when  I  found  my  voice  clear  and  strong,  and 


404  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

read  the  whole  poem  [forty-four  lines]  without  the 
slightest  inclination  to  cough.  This  really  was  the 
granting  of  my  prayer,  and  my  first  thought  about  it 
was,  'What  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  His  good- 
ness to  me?'  I  thought,  'I  will  interest  myself  more 
efficiently  in  the  great  questions  which  concern  Life 
and  Society  at  large.'  If  I  have  'the  word  for  the 
moment,'  as  some  think,  I  will  take  more  pains  to 
speak  it." 

A  little  later  came  a  centenary  which  —  alas !  —  she 
did  not  enjoy.  It  was  that  of  Margaret  Fuller,  and 
was  held  in  Cambridge.  She  was  asked  to  attend  it, 
and  was  assured  that  she  "would  not  be  expected  to 
speak."  This  kindly  wish  to  spare  fatigue  to  a  woman 
of  ninety-one  was  the  last  thing  she  desired.  She 
could  hardly  believe  that  she  would  be  left  out  —  she, 
who  had  known  Margaret,  had  talked  and  corre- 
sponded with  her. 

"They  have  not  asked  me  to  speak!"  she  said  more 
than  once  as  the  time  drew  near. 

She  was  reassured;  of  course  they  would  ask  her 
when  they  saw  her! 

"I  have  a  poem  on  Margaret!" 

"Take  it  with  you!  Of  course  you  will  be  asked  to 
say  something,  and  then  you  will  be  all  ready  with 
your  poem  in  your  pocket." 

Thus  Maud,  in  all  confidence.  Indeed,  if  one  of  her 
own  had  gone  with  her,  the  matter  would  have  been 
easily  arranged;  unfortunately,  the  companion  was  a 
friend  who  could  make  no  motion  in  the  matter.  She 
returned  tired  and  depressed.   "They  did  not  ask  me 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    405 

to  speak,"  she  said,  "and  I  was  the  only  person  present 
who  had  known  Margaret  and  remembered  her." 

For  a  little  while  this  incident  weighed  on  her.  She 
felt  that  she  was  "out  of  the  running";  but  a  winning 
race  was  close  at  hand. 

The  question  of  pure  milk  was  before  the  Massa- 
chusetts Legislature,  and  was  being  hotly  argued.  An 
urgent  message  came  by  telephone;  would  Mrs.  Howe 
say  a  word  for  the  good  cause?  Maud  went  to  her 
room,  and  found  her  at  her  desk,  the  morning's  cam- 
paign already  begun. 

"There  is  to  be  a  hearing  at  the  State  House  on  the 
milk  question;  they  want  you  dreadfully  to  speak. 
What  do  you  say?" 

"Give  me  half  an  hour!"  she  said. 

Before  the  half -hour  was  over  she  had  sketched  out 
her  speech  and  dressed  herself  in  her  best  flowered 
silk  cloak  and  her  new  lilac  hood,  a  birthday  gift  from 
a  poor  seamstress.  Arrived  at  the  State  House,  she 
sat  patiently  through  many  speeches.  Finally  she  was 
called  on  to  speak;  it  was  noticed  that  no  oath  was 
required  of  her.  As  she  rose  and  came  forward  on 
her  daughter's  arm,  —  "You  may  remain  seated,  Mrs. 
Howe,"  said  the  benevolent  chairman. 

"I  prefer  to  stand!"  was  the  reply. 

She  had  left  her  notes  behind ;  she  did  not  need  them. 
Standing  in  the  place  where,  year  after  year,  she  had 
stood  to  ask  for  the  full  rights  of  citizenship,  she  made 
her  last  thrilling  appeal  for  justice. 

"We  have  heard,"  she  said,  "a  great  deal  about  the 
farmers'  and  the  dealers'  side  of  this  case.  We  want 


406  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

the  matter  settled  on  the  ground  of  justice  and  mercy; 
it  ought  not  to  take  long  to  settle  what  is  just  to  all 
parties.  Justice  to  all!  Let  us  stand  on  that.  There 
is  one  deeply  interested  party,  however,  of  whom  we 
have  heard  nothing.  He  cannot  speak  for  himself;  I 
am  here  to  speak  for  him:  the  infant!" 

The  effect  was  electrical.  In  an  instant  the  tired  au- 
dience, the  dull  or  dogged  or  angry  debaters,  woke  to 
a  new  interest,  a  new  spirit.  No  farmer  so  rough,  no 
middle-man  so  keen,  no  legislator  so  apathetic,  but 
felt  the  thrill.  In  a  silence  charged  with  deepest  feeling 
all  listened  as  to  a  prophetess,  as,  step  by  step,  she 
unfolded  the  case  of  the  infant  as  against  farmers  and 
dealers. 

As  Arthur  Dehon  Hill,  counsel  for  the  Pure  Milk 
Association,  led  her  from  the  room,  he  said,  "  Mrs. 
Howe,  you  have  saved  the  day!" 

This  incident  was  still  in  her  mind  on  her  ninety- 
first  birthday,  a  few  days  later. 

"My  parlors  are  full  of  beautiful  flowers  and  other 
gifts,  interpreted  by  notes  expressive  of  much  affec- 
tion, and  telegrams  of  the  same  sort.  What  dare  I  ask 
for  more?  Only  that  I  may  do  something  in  the  future 
to  deserve  all  this  love  and  gratitude.  I  have  intended 
to  deserve  it  all  and  more.  Yet,  when  in  thought  I 
review  my  life,  I  feel  the  waste  and  loss  of  power  thro' 
want  of  outlook.  Like  many  another  young  person, 
I  did  not  know  what  my  really  available  gifts  were. 
Perhaps  the  best  was  a  feeling  of  what  I  may  call  'the 
sense  of  the  moment,'  which  led  a  French  friend  to  say 
of  me:  '3fme.  Howe  possede  le  mot  a  un  degre  remar- 


BATTLE   HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    407 

quable.'  I  was  often  praised  for  saying  '  just  the  right 
word/  and  I  usually  did  this  with  a  strong  feeling  that 
it  ought  to  be  said." 

Early  in  June,  just  as  she  was  preparing  for  the 
summer  flitting,  she  had  a  bad  fall,  breaking  a  rib. 
This  delayed  the  move  for  a  week,  no  more,  the  bone 
knitting  easily.  She  was  soon  happy  among  her  green 
trees,  her  birds  singing  around  her. 

The  memories  of  this  last  summer  come  flocking  in, 
themselves  like  bright  birds.  She  was  so  well,  so  joy- 
ous, giving  her  lilies  with  such  full  hands;  it  was  a 
golden  time. 

As  the  body  failed,  the  mind  —  or  so  it  seemed  to 
us  —  grew  ever  clearer,  the  veil  that  shrouds  the  spirit 
ever  more  transparent.    She  "  saw  things  hidden." 

One  day  a  summer  neighbor  came,  bringing  her  son, 
a  handsome,  athletic  fellow,  smartly  dressed,  a  fine 
figure  of  gilded  youth.  She  looked  at  him  a  good  deal : 
presently  she  said  suddenly,  — 

"You  write  poetry!" 

The  lad  turned  crimson:  his  mother  looked  durh- 
founded.  It  proved  that  he  had  lately  written  a  prize 
poem,  and  that  literature  was  the  goal  of  his  ambi- 
tion. Another  day  she  found  a  philosopher  hidden  in 
what  seemed  to  the  rest  of  the  family  merely  "a 
callow  boy  in  pretty  white  duck  clothes."  So  she 
plucked  out  the  heart  of  each  man's  mystery,  but  so 
tenderly  that  it  was  yielded  gladly,  young  and  old 
alike  feeling  themselves  understood. 

Among  the  visitors  of  this  summer  none  was  more 
welcome  than  her  great-grandson,  Christopher  Birck- 


408  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

head,1  then  an  infant  in  arms.  She  loved  to  hold  and 
watch  the  child,  brooding  over  him  with  grave  ten- 
derness: it  was  a  beautiful  and  gracious  picture  of 
Past  and  Future. 

Maud  had  just  written  a  book  on  Sicily,  and,  as 
always,  our  mother  read  and  corrected  the  galley 
proofs.  She  did  this  with  exquisite  care  and  thoughtful- 
ness,  never  making  her  suggestions  on  the  proof  itself, 
but  on  a  separate  sheet  of  paper,  with  the  number  of 
the  galley,  the  phrase,  and  her  suggested  emendations. 
This  was  her  invariable  custom :  the  writer  must  be  per- 
fectly free  to  retain  her  own  phrase,  if  she  preferred  it. 

Walking  tired  her  that  summer,  but  she  was  very 
faithful  about  it. 

"Zacko,"  she  would  command  John  Elliott,  "take 
me  for  a  walk." 

The  day  before  she  took  to  her  bed,  he  remembers 
that  she  clung  to  him  more  than  usual  and  said,  — 

"It  tires  me  very  much."  (This  after  walking  twice 
round  the  piazza.) 

"Once  more!"  he  encouraged. 

"No  —  I  have  walked  all  I  can  to-day." 

"Let  me  take  you  back  to  your  room  this  way,"  he 
said,  leading  her  back  by  the  piazza.  "That  makes 
five  times  each  way!" 

She  laughed  and  was  pleased  to  have  done  this,  but 
he  thinks  she  had  a  great  sense  of  weakness  too. 

Her  favorite  piece  on  the  "  Victor  "  that  summer  was 
"The  Artillerist's  Oath."  The  music  had  a  gallant 
ring  to  it,  and  there  was  something  heroic  about  the 

i-    *  Son  of  Caroline  Mintum  (Hall)  and  the  Reverend  Hugh  Birckhead. 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    409 

whole  thing,  something  that  suggested  the  Forlorn 

Hope  —  how  many  of  them  she  had  led !  When  nine 

o'clock  came,  she  would  ask  for  this  piece  by  the 

nickname  she  had  given  it,  taken  from  one  of  its  odd 

lines,  — 

"I'll  wed  thee  in  the  battle's  front!" 

While  the  song  was  being  given,  she  was  all  alert 
and  alive,  even  if  she  may  have  been  sleepy  earlier  in 
the  evening.  She  would  get  up  with  a  little  gesture  of 
courage,  and  take  leave  of  us,  always  with  a  certain 
ceremony,  that  was  like  the  withdrawing  of  royalty. 
The  evening  was  then  over,  and  we  too  went  to  bed! 

As  we  gather  up  our  treasures  of  this  last  summer, 
we  remember  that  several  things  might  have  prepared 
us  for  what  was  coming,  had  not  our  eyes  been  holden. 
She  spoke  a  great  deal  of  old  times,  the  figures  of  her 
childhood  and  girlhood  being  evidently  very  near  to 
her.  She  quoted  them  often;  "My  grandma  used  to 
say  —  "  She  spoke  as  naturally  as  the  boy  in  the 
next  room  might  speak  of  her. 

She  would  not  look  in  the  glass;  "I  don't  like  to 
see  my  old  face!"  she  said.  She  could  not  see  the 
beauty  that  every  one  else  saw.  Yet  she  kept  to  the 
very  last  a  certain  tender  coquetry.  She  loved  her 
white  dresses,  and  the  flowered  silk  cloak  of  that  last 
summer.  She  chose  with  care  the  jewels  suited  to 
each  costume,  the  topaz  cross  for  the  white,  the  ame- 
thysts for  the  lilac.  She  had  a  great  dread  of  old  peo- 
ple's being  untidy  or  unprepossessing  in  appearance, 
and  never  grudged  the  moments  spent  in  adjusting 
the  right  cap  and  lace  collar. 


410  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

There  was  an  almost  unearthly  light  in  her  face,  a 
transparency  and  sweetness  that  spoke  to  others  more 
plainly  than  to  us :  Hugh  Birckhead  saw  and  recognized 
it  as  a  look  he  had  seen  in  other  faces  of  saintly  age, 
as  their  translation  approached.  But  we  said  joy- 
ously to  her  and  to  each  other,  "She  will  round  out 
the  century;  we  shall  all  keep  the  Hundredth  Birthday 
together!"  And  we  and  she  partly  believed  it. 

The  doctor  had  insisted  strongly  that  she  should 
keep,  through  the  summer  at  least,  the  trained  nurse 
who  had  ministered  to  her  after  her  fall.  She  "heard 
what  he  said,  but  it  made  no  difference."  In  early 
August  she  records  "a  passage  at  arms  with  Maud,  in 
which  I  clearly  announced  my  intention  of  dispensing 
with  the  services  of  a  trained  nurse,  my  good  health 
and  simple  habits  rendering  it  entirely  unnecessary." 

She  threatened  to  write  to  her  man  of  business. 

"7  would  rather  die,"  she  said,  "than  be  an  old 
woman  with  a  nurse!" 

Maud  and  Florence  wept,  argued,  implored,  but 
the  nurse  was  dismissed.  The  Journal  acknowledges 
that  "her  ministrations  and  Dr.  Cobb's  diagnosis 
have  been  very  beneficial  to  my  bodily  health."  On 
the  same  day  she  records  the  visit  of  a  Persian  Prince, 
who  had  come  to  this  country  chiefly  to  see  two  per- 
sons, the  President  of  the  United  States  and  Mrs. 
Julia  Ward  Howe.  "  He  also  claims  to  be  a  reincar- 
nation of  some  remarkable  philosopher;  and  to  be  so 
greatly  interested  in  the  cause  of  Peace  that  he  de- 
clines to  visit  our  ships  now  in  the  harbor  here,  to 
which  he  has  been  invited." 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    411 

Reading  Theodore  Parker's  sermon  on  "Wisdom 
and  Intellect,"  she  found  it  so  full  of  notable  say- 
ings that  she  thought  "a  little  familiar  book  of  daily- 
inspiration  and  aspiration"  might  be  made  from  his 
writings:  she  wrote  to  Mr.  Francis  J.  Garrison  sug- 
gesting this,  and  suggesting  also,  what  had  been 
long  in  her  mind,  the  collecting  and  publishing  of  her 
"Occasional  Poems." 

In  late  September,  she  was  "moved  to  write  one  or 
more  open  letters  on  what  religion  really  is,  for  some 
one  of  the  women's  papers";  and  the  next  day  began 
upon  "What  is  Religion?"  or  rather,  "What  Sort  of 
Religion  makes  Religious  Liberty  possible?" 

A  day  or  two  later,  she  was  giving  an  "offhand  talk" 
on  the  early  recollections  of  Newport  at  the  Papeterie, 
and  going  to  an  afternoon  tea  at  a  musical  house, 
where,  after  listening  to  Schumann  Romances  and 
Chopin  waltzes,  and  to  the  "Battle  Hymn"  on  the 
'cello,  she  was  moved  to  give  a  performance  of  "Flib- 
bertigibbet." This  occasion  reminded  her  happily  of 
her  father's  house,  of  Henry  "playing  tolerably  on  the 
'cello,  Marion  studying  the  violin,  Bro'  Sam's  lovely 
tenor  voice." 

Now  came  the  early  October  days  when  she  was 
to  receive  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  from  Smith 
College.  She  hesitated  about  making  the  tiresome 
journey,  but  finally,  "Grudging  the  trouble  and  ex- 
pense, I  decide  to  go  to  Smith  College,  for  my  degree, 
but  think  I  won't  do  so  any  more." 

She  started  accordingly  with  daughter  and  maid, 
for   Northampton,    Massachusetts.     It    was    golden 


412  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

weather,  and  she  was  in  high  spirits.  Various  college 
dignitaries  met  her  at  the  station;  one  of  these  had 
given  up  a  suite  of  rooms  for  her  use;  she  was  soon 
established  in  much  peace  and  comfort. 

Wednesday,  October  5,  was  a  day  of  perfect  autumn 
beauty.  She  was  early  dressed  in  her  white  dress,  with 
the  college  gown  of  rich  black  silk  over  it,  the  "mortar- 
board" covering  in  like  manner  her  white  lace  cap. 
Thus  arrayed,  a  wheeled  chair  conveyed  her  to  the 
great  hall,  already  packed  with  visitors  and  graduates, 
as  was  the  deep  platform  with  college  officials  and 
guests  of  honor.  Opposite  the  platform,  as  if  hung  in 
air,  a  curving  gallery  was  filled  with  white-clad  girls, 
some  two  thousand  of  them;  as  she  entered  they  rose 
like  a  flock  of  doves,  and  with  them  the  whole  audience. 
They  rose  once  more  when  her  name  was  called,  last 
in  the  list  of  those  honored  with  degrees;  and  as  she 
came  forward,  the  organ  pealed,  and  the  great  chorus 
of  fresh  young  voices  broke  out  with 
"Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord  — " 

It  was  the  last  time. 

Later  in  the  day  the  students  of  Chapin  House 
brought  their  guest-book,  begging  for  her  autograph. 
She  looked  at  Laura  with  a  twinkle. 

"Do  you  think  they  would  like  me  to  write  some- 
thing?" 

Assured  on  that  point,  she  waited  a  moment,  and 

then  wrote  after  her  signature,  — 

Wandered  to  Smith  College 
In  pursuit  of  knowledge; 
Leaves  so  much  the  wiser, 
Nothing  can  surprise  her! 


BATTLE  HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC    413 

She  reached  home  apparently  without  undue  fa- 
tigue. "She  will  be  more  tired  to-morrow!"  we  said; 
but  she  was  not.  Her  son  came  for  the  week-end,  and 
his  presence  was  always  a  cordial.  Sunday  was  a 
happy  day.  In  the  evening  we  gathered  round  the 
piano,  she  playing,  son  and  daughters  singing  the  old 
German  student  songs  brought  by  "Uncle  Sam"  from 
Heidelberg  seventy  years  before. 

On  the  Tuesday  she  went  to  the  Papeterie,  and  was 
the  life  and  soul  of  the  party,  sparkling  with  merri- 
ment. Driving  home,  it  was  so  warm  that  she  begged 
to  have  the  top  of  the  carriage  put  back,  and  so  she 
enjoyed  the  crowning  pageant  of  the  autumn,  the  full 
hunter's  moon  and  the  crimson  ball  of  the  sun  both 
visible  at  once. 

Wednesday  found  her  busy  at  her  desk,  confessing 
to  a  slight  cold,  but  making  nothing  of  it.  The  next 
day  bronchitis  developed,  followed  by  pneumonia. 
For  several  days  the  issue  seemed  doubtful,  the  strong 
constitution  fighting  for  life.  Two  devoted  physicians 
were  beside  her,  one  the  friend  of  many  years,  the 
other  a  young  assistant.  The  presence  of  the  latter 
puzzled  her,  but  his  youth  and  strength  seemed  tonic 
to  her,  and  she  would  rest  quietly  with  her  hand  in  his 
strong  hand. 

On  Sunday  evening  the  younger  physician  thought 
her  convalescent;  the  elder  said,  "If  she  pulls  through 
the  next  twenty-four  hours,  she  will  recover." 

But  she  was  too  weary.  That  night  they  heard  her 
say,  "God  will  help  me!"  and  again,  toward  morning, 
"I  am  so  tired!" 


414  JULIA  WARD  HOWE 

Being  alone  for  a  moment  with  Maud,  she  spoke 
one  word:  a  little  word  that  had  meant  "good-bye" 
between  them  in  the  nursery  days. 

So,  in  the  morning  of  Monday,  October  17,  her 
spirit  passed  quietly  on  to  God's  keeping. 

Those  who  were  present  at  her  funeral  will  not  for- 
get it.  The  flower-decked  church,  the  mourning  multi- 
tude, the  white  coffin  borne  high  on  the  shoulders  of 
eight  stalwart  grandsons,  the  words  of  age-long  wisdom 
and  beauty  gathered  into  a  parting  tribute,  the  bugle 
sounding  Taps,  as  she  passed  out  in  her  last  earthly 
triumph,  the  blind  children  singing  round  the  grave 
on  which  the  autumn  sun  shone  with  a  final  golden 
greeting. 

We  have  told  the  story  of  our  mother's  life,  possibly 
at  too  great  length;  but  she  herself  told  it  in  eight 
words. 

"Tell  me,"  Maud  asked  her  once,  "what  is  the  ideal 
aim  of  life?" 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  replied,  dwelling  thought- 
fully on  each  word,  — 

"To  learn,  to  teach,  to  serve,  to  enjoy!" 


THE   END 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abbott,  J.,  i,  214,  215;  n,  99. 

Abdin  Palace,  n,  35,  36. 

Abdul  Hamid  II,  n,  42. 

Abdul  Hassan,  mosque  of,  II,  36. 

Aberdeen,  Countess  of,  n,  165,  166. 

Aberdeen,  J.  C.  H.  Gordon,  Earl  of,  n, 

165. 
Abolitionists,  i,  177,  305;  n,  171. 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  French,  n,  23. 
Acroceraunian  Mountains,  I,  272. 
Acropolis,  ii,  43. 

Adamowski,  Timothee,  II,  55,  58. 
Adams,  Charles  Follen,  n,  270,  273;  verse 

by,  ii,  335.    ,• 
Adams,  Mrs.  C.  F.,  I,  266. 
Adams,  John,  i,  4. 
Adams,  John  Quincy,  ii,  312. 
Adams,  Nehemiah,  I,  168. 
Advertiser,  Boston,  II,  195,  222. 
.<Egina,  I,  73. 

iEschylus,  ii,  130,  282,  348,  372. 
Agassiz,  Alexander,  n,  50. 
Agassiz,  Elizabeth  Cary,  i,  124,  345,  361; 

II,  228,  287,  292. 
Agassiz,  Louis,  I,  124,  151,  251,  345;  II, 

150,  158. 
AIde\  Hamilton,  n,  251. 
Airlie,  Lady,  n,  254. 
Alabama,  II,  108. 
Albania,  I,  272. 
Albany,  i,  342. 
Albert  of  Savoy,  n,  303. 
Albert  Victor,  n,  9. 
Albinola,  Sig.,  i,  94. 
Alboni,  Marietta,  i,  87. 
Alcott,  A.  Bronson,  i,  285,  290;  n,  57, 120. 
Aldrich,  Mrs.  Richard,  II,  367. 
Aldrich,  T.  B.,  I,  244,  262;  ii,  70,  354,  357, 

358. 
Aldrich,  Mrs.  T.  B.,  I,  245. 
Alger,  Wm.  R„  i,  207,  244,  245;  II,   127, 

139,  140. 
Allston,  John,  I,  12. 
Alma-Tadema,  Lady,  n,  168,  169. 
Alma-Tadema,  Laurence,  n,  168,  169, 171. 
Almy,  Mr.,  n,  139. 
Amadeo,  n,  31,  278. 
Amalfi,  ii,  33. 
Amberley,  Lady,  I,  266. 
Am61ie,  Queen,  ii,  30. 
America,  i,  7,  11,  207,  247,  267,  273,  320, 

344;  ii,  18,  21,  189. 


American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Letters, 
ii,  399. 

American  Academy  of  Science,  I,  251,  259. 

American  Authors,  Society  of,  n,  355. 

American  Branch,  International  Peace 
Society,  I,  306. 

American  Civil  War,  I,  176,  186,  219-22; 
ii,  253. 

American  Institute  of  Education,  n,  68. 

American  Notes,  I,  81. 

American  Peace  Society,  I,  303. 

American  Revolution,  i,  6. 

American  School  of  Archaeology,  Athens, 
ii,  243. 

American  Woman  Suffrage  Association, 
I,  365. 

Ames,  Mr.,  n,  166,  167. 

Ames,  Charles  Gordon,  i,  392;  n,  187, 193, 
216,  229,  273,  280,  287,  288,  298,  324, 
328,  358,  361. 

Ames,  Fanny,  n,  297. 

Ames,  Mrs.  Sheldon,  n,  22. 

Amsterdam,  ii,  11. 

Anacreon,  i,  289. 

Anagnos,  Julia  R.,  I,  96,  104,  106,  114, 
115,  116,  119,  122,  126,  128,  133,  159- 
63,  172,  181,  216,  249-51,  264,  265,  267, 
297,  349,  350,  352;  n,  46,  59,  65,  70,  73, 
74,  115-20,  123,  127,  128,  129,  164, 
349. 

Anagnos,  Michael,  i,  273,  281,  288-90, 
297,  331,  332;  n,  116-18,  129,  228,  229, 
293,  300,  347,  348,  349,  357,  360. 

Ancient  and  Honorable  Artillery  Com- 
pany, i,  232. 

Anderson,  Hendrik,  ii,  240,  243,  244,  248, 
252. 

Anderson,  Isabel,  n,  233. 

Anderson,  Larz,  I,  169;  n,  233,  287. 

Andrew,  John  A.,  i,  150,  151,  186,  189, 
195,  220,  231,  233,  238,  239,  246,  261, 
283,  381;  II,  105,  265,  323. 

Andrew,  Mrs.  J.  A.,  i,  186,  231. 

Andrews,  E.  B.,  n,  187. 

Anniversary  Week,  I,  389;  II,  151. 

Anthony,  Susan,  n,  344. 

Antioch  College,  i,  169. 

Antonayades,  Mr.,  n,  34. 

Antwerp,  i,  279;  ir,  11,  172. 

Antwerp  Cathedral,  n,  11,  172. 

Antwerp  MusSe,  n,  11,  172,  173. 

Ap  Thomas,  Mr.,  i,  266. 


418 


INDEX 


Apocrypha,  i,  317. 

Appleton,  Fanny.  See  Longfellow. 

Appleton,  Maud,  n,  58. 

Appleton,  T.  G.,  i,  159,  359;  n,  92,  93. 

Argos,  i,  275,  277. 

Argyll,  Elizabeth,  Duchess  of,  I,  267. 

Argyll,  G.  D.,  Campbell,  Duke  of,  I,  267. 

Argyll,  ninth  Duke  of,  I,  267;  II,  223. 

Arion  Musical  Society,  n,  173. 

Aristophanes,  i,  329;  n,  98,  128,  130. 

Aristotle,  I,  335;  n,  7,  169,  174,  348,  372. 

Armenia,  n,  189,  190,  209,  215. 

Armenia,  Friends  of,  II,  190,  191. 

Armstrong,  S.  C.,  n,  91. 

Army  Register,  I,  344. 

Arnold,  Benedict,  I,  5. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  n,  87. 

Arthur,  Chester  A.,  n,  101. 

Ascension  Church,  I,  70. 

Assiout,  ii,  36. 

Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Women,  i,  361,  373-76,  383,  384;  n,  29, 
58,  73,  84,  90,  91,  95,  97,  98,  131,  141, 
152,  162,  178,  180,  183,  199,  200,  207, 
209,  26S. 

Astor,  Emily.  See  Ward. 

Astor,  John,  i,  121. 

Astor,  Wm.  B.,  i,  57,  99. 

Athens,  i,  273,  274,  275,  278,  287;  II,  43, 
243. 

Athens  Museum,  n,  43. 

Atherstone,  i,  97,  280. 

Athol,  i,  119. 

Atkinson,  Edward,  n,  62,  177. 

Atlanta,  n,  207,  208. 

Atlantic,  n,  75. 

Atlantic  Monthly,  I,  176,  188;  II,  295. 

Augusta,  Empress,  II,  22. 

Austria,  I,  94. 

Authors'  Club,  Boston,  n,  270,  271,  320, 
334,  340,  341,  354,  357. 

Avignon,  i,  97. 

Babcock,  Mrs.  C.  A.,  n,  215. 

Bacon,  Gorham,  n,  49. 

Baddeley,  Mr.,  n,  246. 

Baez,  Buenaventura,  i,  323,  325,  328,  329, 

334. 
Bailey,  Jacob,  I,  37,  52. 
Bairam,  feast  of,  n,  34. 
Baker,  Lady,  I,  267. 
Baker,  Sir  Samuel,  i,  266. 
Baltimore,  I,  169,  240;  n,  343,  344. 
Baluet,  Judith.    See  Marion. 
Balzac,  Honor6  de,  i,  67. 
Bancroft,  George,  i,  46,  209,  230;  II,  139. 
Bank  of  Commerce,  i,  17,  63. 
Bank  of  England,  i,  62. 
Bank  of  the  United  States,  I,  62. 
Banks,  N.  P.,  i,  172. 
Barlow,  Gen.  Francis,  I,  192;  II,  61. 
Barlow,  Mrs.  Francis,  i,  192. 


Barnardo,  T.  J.,  H,  165. 

Barnstable,  I,  231,  232,  233. 

Barrows,  S.  J.,  n,  229. 

Barrows,  Mrs.  S.  J.,  n,  209,  228. 

Bartenders'  Union,  i,  391. 

Bartol,  C.  A.,  I,  221,  222,  234,  245,  286, 
346;  ii,  127. 

Barton,  Clara,  n,  210,  215. 

Batcheller,  Mrs.  Alfred,  ii,  269. 

Batcheller,  Mrs.  Frank,  n,  292. 

Battle  Abbey,  i,  4. 

Battle  Hymn,  i,  9,  173,  187,  188,  189,  190, 
191,  230,  234;  ii,  108,  125,  136,  155,  191, 
233,  250,  265,  273,  279,  311,  327,  349, 
351,  354,  365,  381,  392,  411,  412. 

Baur,  F.  C,  i,  329,  332,  333,  335,  356. 

Bayard,  T.  F.,  n,  96. 

Beach,  H.  P.,  n,  61,  73,  76,  90. 

Beal,  J.  A.,  n,  322. 

Bedford,  Duchess  of,  n,  171. 

Bedford  Hills,  n,  364. 

Beecher,  Catherine,  I,  110. 

Beecher,  H.  W„  i,  226,  365;  ii,  123,  235. 

Beethoven,  L.  van,  n,  19,  157,  351. 

Belgium,  i,  279,  280;  ii,  172. 

Belknap,  Jane,  I,  128. 

Bell,  Helen,  n,  150. 

Bellini,  Vincenzo,  II,  313. 

Bellows,  H.  W.,  ii,  57. 

Benzon,  Mrs.,  i,  265,  266. 

Berdan,  Mrs.,  n,  227. 

Bergson,  Henri,  n,  401. 

Berlin,  i,  93,  94;  n,  12,  19. 

Bernhardt,  Sarah,  n,  227. 

Besant,  Walter,  n,  171. 

Bethany,  n,  40. 

Bethlehem,  n,  38. 

Bible,  i,  46,  53,  109,  208,  254,  310,  323, 
336,  340,  344,  385;  n,  95,  174,  231. 

Bigelow,  Mary,  i,  145. 

Bigelow,  Susan,  i,  145;  n,  231. 

Birckhead,  Caroline,  n,  233. 

Birckhead,  Christopher,  n,  407. 

Birckhead,  Hugh,  n,  410. 

Bird,  F.  W.,  Sr.,  ii,  187. 

Bishop,  Mr.,  I,  240,  241. 

Bisland,  Elizabeth,  ii,  108. 

Bismarck,  Otto  von,  n,  19,  303. 

Bjornson,  Bjornstjerne,  II,  243,  247. 

Black,  Wm.,  ii,  9. 

Blackstone,  Wm.,  i,  73. 

Blackwell,  Alice,  n,  190,  233,  325. 

Blackwell,  Antoinette,  I,  375;  n,  152,  154. 

Blackwell,  Henry,  I,  332;  n,  190. 

Blair,  Montgomery,  I,  238. 

Blanc,  Louis,  n,  24. 

Blind,  work  for  the,  I,  73;  n,  347.  See  also 
Perkins  Institution  and  Kindergarten. 

Bloomsbury,  n,  4,  7. 

Boatswain's  Whistle,  I,  210,  211. 

Boer  War,  n,  272. 

Bologna,  II,  27. 


INDEX 


419 


Bonaparte,  Joseph,  i,  147,  328. 

Bond  Street,  i,  22. 

Bonheur,  Rosa,  u,  20. 

Boocock,  Mr.,  i,  43,  44. 

Booth,  Charles,  n,  166. 

Booth,  Edwin,  i,  172,  177,  203-05,  219, 

327;  ii,  69,  70,  97,  183,  198,  345. 
Booth,  J.  Wilkes,  I,  220,  221. 
Booth,  Mary,  i,  200,  204. 
Boppart,  i,  133. 
Boston,  i,  67,  70,  74,   75,    102-04,    111, 

123,  126,  127,  129,  130,  132,  156,  176, 

203,  207,  249,  261,  294;  n,  60,  87,  92, 

130,  168,  171,  181,  363. 
Boston  Armenian  Relief  Committee,  n, 

189. 
Boston   Conservatory  of  Music,  n,  181, 

217. 
Boston  Museum,  i,  166;  n,  158. 
Boston  Symphony  Orchestra,  n,  373. 
Boston  Theatre,  I,  203,  210,  350;  n,  210. 
Bostwick,  Mr.,  n,  225. 
Bottomore,  Billy,  I,  53,  54. 
Bourbon  dynasty,  i,  310. 
Bowditch,  H.  I.,  n,  187. 
Bowles,  Ada  C,  i,  318,  390. 
Boys'  Reform  School,  i,  233. 
Bracebridge,  C.  N.,  I,  97,  280. 
Bracebridge,  Mrs.  C.  N.,  i,  97,  280. 
Brahms,  Johannes,  n,  71,  156,  210. 
Brain  Club,  I,  201,  202,  215,  257,  264,  281. 
Brattleboro,  i,  118,  119. 
Breadwinners'  College,  n,  128. 
Breschkovskaya,  Catherine,  n,  187,  188. 
Bridgman,  Laura,  I,  73,  74,  89,  95,  101, 

102,  133;  ii,  8,  145,  262,  293. 
Bright,  Jacob,  I,  314. 
Broadwood,  Louisa,  ii,  247,  255. 
Bronte,  Charlotte,  I,  170. 
Brooke,  Lord,  II,  165. 
Brooke,  Stopford,  n,  167. 
Brooklyn,  i,  27;  n,  202. 
Brooks,  C.  T„  i,  255;  n,  56. 
Brooks,  Phillips,  n,  75,  126,  127,  141, 162, 

171,  172,  179. 
Brooks,  Preston,  I,  168. 
Brown,  Anna,  n,  57. 
Brown,  Charlotte  Emerson,  n,  182. 
Brown,  John,   i,  151,  177,  179,  187,  381; 

ii,  234. 
Brown,  Mrs.  John,  I,  177. 
Brown,  Olympia,  I,  389. 
Brown  University,  i,  72,  297;  ii,  392. 
Browning,  E.  B.,  I,  201,  266;  n,  167. 
Browning,  Robert,  I,  266;  II,  5,  84,  171, 

227,  306,  367. 
Bruce,  Mr.,  ii,  167. 
Bruce,  Mrs.  E.  M.,  I,  389,  391. 
Bruges,  I,  280. 
Brummel,  G.  B.,  I,  316. 
Brussels,  i,  279. 
Bryant,  W.  C,  i,  209,  304;  n,  197,  198. 


Bryce,  James,  ii,  168. 

Buck,  Florence,  I,  391. 

Buffalo,  i,  376;  ii,  90,  139. 

Buller,  Charles,  I,  82. 

Bullock,  A.  H.,  i,  249. 

Bulwer-Lytton,  E.,  I,  262;  n,  206. 

Burne-Jones,  Mrs.  E.,  n,  169. 

Burns,  Robert,  I,  139. 

Burr,  Mrs.,  n,  130. 

Burt,  Mr.,  n,  248. 

Busoni,  Sig.,  ii,  192. 

Butcher,  S.  H.,  n,  323. 

Butler,  Josephine,  n,  21. 

Butler,  W.  A.,  n,  248,  306. 

Butterworth,  Hezekiah,  n,  228,  270. 

Byron,  G.  Gordon,  Lord,  I,  68;  u,  296. 

Cable,  G.  W.,  n,  87. 

Cabot,  Elliot,  u,  363. 

Caine,  Hall,  n,  243,  248,  250. 

Cairo,  n,  34.  35,  36,  182. 

California,  n,  131,  135,  154. 

Calypso,  i,  272. 

Cambridge  Club,  n,  66. 

Campagna,  I,  95,  134. 

Campanari,  Sig.,  ii,  270. 

Campbell,  Dudley,  n,  8. 

Campello,  Count  Salome  di,  ii,  273,  285, 

302. 
Cardini,  Sig.,  I,  43,  44. 
Carignan,  Prince  de,  n,  31. 
Carlisle,  Lady,  i,  85,  87;  n,  166. 
Carlisle,  G.  W.  F.  Howard,  Earl  of,  i,  81, 

85,  88. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  i,  84,  86,  172;  ii,  65,  85, 

86. 
Carlyle,  Mrs.  Thomas,  I,  84;  n,  85,  86. 
Cary,  Mrs.,  i,  159. 
Casino  Theatre,  n,  54,  68,  77. 
Catlin,  Mrs.,  ii,  179. 
Catucci,  Count,  n,  243. 
Catucci,  Countess,  n,  243. 
Century  Club,  I,  258. 
Cento,  i,  87,  88. 
Ceuta,  ii,  234. 

Chabreuil,  Vicomte  de,  i,  257. 
Chambrun,  Marquis  de,  I,  239. 
Chamounix,  n,  20. 
Chanler,  Alida,  n,  225. 
Chanler,    Margaret.     See   Aldrich,    Mrs. 

Richard. 
Chanler,  Margaret  Terry,  n,  55,  57,  60, 

65,  67,  174,  176,  202,  220,  224,  240,  243, 

244,  253,  254,  303. 
Chanler,  T.  W.,  n,  303,  304. 
Chanler,  Winthrop,  n,  72,  94,  174,  225, 

243,  303. 
Channing,  Eva,  n,  208. 
Channing.  W.  E.,  i,  70,  72,  200;  n,  56,  57, 

77,  108,  142. 
Channing,  W.  H.,  I,  286;  II,  57,  194. 
Channing  Memorial  Church,  u,  78. 


420 


INDEX 


Chapman,  Elizabeth,  n,  215,  224,  289. 

Chapman,  J.  J.,  II,  361. 

Charitable  Eye  and  Ear  Infirmary,  I,  129. 

Charity  Club,  n,  228. 

Charleston,  i,  11. 

Chase,  Jacob,  n,  57,  58. 

Chase,  Mrs.  Jacob,  n,  57. 

Chatelet,  Mme.  du,  n,  23. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  II,  271. 

Cheney,  E.  D.,  i,  341,  375;  n,  88, 119,  152, 

195,  208,  266,  302,  324,  328. 
Chester,  n,  4,  164. 
Chicago,  i,  374;  n,  87,  131,  138,  178,  180, 

184. 
Chickering,  Mr.,  i,  120. 
Chopin,  Frgdenc,  n,  55,  170,  351, 
Christian  Herald,  II,  278. 
Christian  Register,  u,  62. 
Church  of  Rome,  n,  241. 
Church  of  the  Disciples,  I,  186,  237,  284, 

346,  392;  n,  56. 
Cincinnati,  I,  169. 
City  Point,  n,  75. 
Clarke,  Bishop,  n,  198. 
Clarke,  J.  F.,  i,  177,  185,  186,  187,  198, 

211,  219,  236,  239,  247,  257,  263,  286, 

290,  346,  362,  375,  392;  n,  66,  67,  70,  76, 

137,  159,  234,  280,  402,  403. 
Clarke,  Mrs.  J.  F.,  n,  217. 
Clarke,  Sarah,  i,  237. 
Claudius,  Matthias,  i,  67,  68;  II,  71. 
Clay,  Henry,  i,  98. 
Clemens,  S.  L.,  n,  50,  187,  341. 
Clement,  E.  H.,  n,  320;  verse  by,  335. 
Cleveland,  i,  365,  377;  n,  139. 
Cleveland,  Henry,  I,  74. 
Cobb,  Dr.,  n,  410. 

Cobbe,  Frances  P.,  I,  266,  314;  n,  62. 
Cobden-Sanderson,  Mr.,  n,  367. 
Cobden-Sanderson,  Mrs.,  II,  367. 
Cochrane,  Jessie,  n,  240,  246,  249. 
Coggeshall,  Joseph,  i,  253;  n,  57. 
Cogswell,  J.  G.,  i,  46,  104,  184. 
Colby,  Clara,  n,  180. 
Cole,  Thomas,  I,  42. 
Colfax,  Schuyler,  i,  378. 
Collegio  Romano,  II,  255. 
Colliers'  Weekly,  II,  391. 
Collyer,  Robert,  n,  62,  230,  255,  344. 
Cologne,  i,  92;  n,  173. 
Colonial  Dames,  n,  198. 
Colorado,  I,  372. 
Columba  Kang,  n,  91. 
Columbia  University,  n,  227. 
Columbian  Exposition,  n,  107,  178,  181, 

182,  184. 
Columbus,  Christopher,  I,  323;  n,   178, 

194,  244,  357. 
Combe,  George,  I,  95. 
Commonwealth,  I,  141,  142. 
Concord,  Mass.,  I,  152,  177;  u,  57,  61,  77, 

128,  194. 


Concord,  N.H.,  I,  254. 

Concord  Prison,  n,  252. 

Concord  School  of  Philosophy,  u,  118, 
119,  120,  128. 

Constantinople,  I,  345;  n,  35,  42. 

Continental  Congress,  i,  4. 

Conway,  M.  D.,  i,  306. 

Cook's  agency,  n,  34,  41. 

Cookson,  Mr.,  n,  170. 

Coolidge,  Joseph,  n,  313. 

Copperheads,  i,  239. 

Coquelin,  B.  C,  n,  288,  289. 

Coquerel,  Athanase,  i,  286;  n,  315. 

Corday,  Charlotte,  I,  12. 

Cordes,  Charlotte,  I,  12. 

Corea,  n,  91. 

Corfu,  I,  272. 

Corne\  Father,  i,  53,  54. 

Corot,  J.  B.  C,  ii,  172. 

Corse,  Gen.,  n,  380. 

Cotta,  J.  F.,  i,  202. 

Council  of  Italian  Women,  n,  254,  255. 

Cowell,  Mary,  i,  13. 

Crabbe,  George,  i,  13. 

Cram,  R.  A.,  n,  156. 

Cramer,  J.  B.,  I,  43. 

Crawford,  Annie.   See  Rabe\ 

Crawford,  Eleanor,  n,  389. 

Crawford,  F.  Marion,  i,  130,254,255,  362; 
ii,  28,  31,  65,  69-71,  80,  81,  84,  240,  362, 
376,  389. 

Crawford,  Mrs.  F.  M.,  n,  240. 

Crawford,  Harold,  n,  240. 

Crawford,  Louisa  W.,  i,  18,  19,  30,  34,  35, 
58,  59,  70,  78,  79,  95,  103,  115,  118,  130. 
134.  Letters  to,  I,  81,  84,  88,  92,  110, 
111,  113-17,  119-22,  125-29,  130,  131, 
155-59,  168,  170-72.  See  also  Terry, 
Louisa. 

Crawford,  Thomas,  I,  41,  95,  115;  II,  55, 
389. 

Crete,  I,  260-62,  264,  275-77,  278,  287; 
ii,  43,  44.  225,  394. 

Crimea,  I,  294. 

Crimean  War,  n,  189. 

Critic,  N.Y.,  n,  66. 

Crothers,  S.  McC,  n,  320. 

Crusaders,  n,  15. 

Cuba,  i,  173,  176,  177,  326. 

Cuckson,  Mr.,  n,  203. 

Cumberland  Lakes,  I,  92. 

Curiel,  Sefior,  i,  324. 

Curtis,  G.  W.,  i,  143,  159, 160;  n,  93.  Let- 
ter of,  ii,  147. 

Gushing,  Mr.,  ii,  74,  75. 

Cushing,  Louisa,  n,  227. 

Cushman,  Charlotte,  I,  204,  n,  345. 

Cutler,  B.  C,  Sr.,  i,  10,  13,  17. 

Cutler,  B.  C,  2d,  i,  27,  28,  38,  39,  107; 
ii,  222,  364. 

Cutler,  Eliza.  See  Francis. 

Cutler,  John,  I,  10,  12. 


INDEX 


421 


Cutler,  Julia.  See  Ward. 

Cutler,  Louisa.  See  McAllister. 

Cutler,  Sarah  M.  H„  I,  10,  12,  13,  17,  39, 

40,  42;  ii,  319. 
Cyclades,  I,  272. 
Cyprus,  ii,  42. 
Czerwinsk,  n,  12,  13,  14. 

Dana,  R.  H.,  Jr.,  i,  226. 

D'Annunzio,  n,  285. 

Dante,   Alighieri,  i,  174,  330;  n,  26,  27, 

120,  357. 
Dantzig,  n,  15,  18. 
Daubigny,  C.  F.,  n,  172. 
Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution,  n, 

179,  194,  351. 
Davenport,  E.  L.,  I,  204. 
Davidson,  Thomas,  n,  128. 
Davidson,  Wm.,  letter  of,  n,  390. 
Davis,  James  C,  I,  201,  251. 
Davis,  Jefferson,  i,  222. 
Davis,  Mary  F.,  I,  304. 
Davis,  Theodore,  n,  251. 
Dead  Sea,  n,  38,  39. 
Declaration  of  Independence,  I,  4. 
DeKoven,  Reginald,  n,  195. 
Deland,  Lorin,  n,  332,  333. 
Deland,  Margaret,  n,  303,  332. 
Delineator,  n,  381. 
DeLong,  G.  W.,  i,  322,  325. 
Demesmaker.  See  Cutler,  John. 
Denver,  n,  152,  153. 
Descartes,  Rene,  n,  397. 
Desgrange,  Mme.,  n,  240. 
Detroit,  n,  141. 
Devonshire,  Duchess  of,  n,  8. 
Devonshire,   Wm.  Cavendish,  Duke  of, 

ii,  8. 
DeWars,  Mr.,  n,  224. 
Diana,  Temple  of,  n,  6. 
Diaz,  Abby  M.,  n,  323. 
Dickens,  Catherine,  I,  85. 
Dickens,  Charles,  i,  71,  81,  83,  84,  87,  286. 
Diman,  Mr.,  n,  304. 
Dirschau,  n,  14. 
Dix,  Dorothea,  i,  73. 
Dole,  N.  H.,  ii,  273. 
Donald,  Dr.,  n,  199,  200,  203. 
Doolittle,  Senator,  i,  239. 
Dor6,  Gustave,  ii,  248. 
Dorr,  Mary  W.,  I,  74,  128,  214. 
Downer,  Mr.,  n,  362. 
Doyle,  Lt.,  n,  104. 
Draper,  Gov.,  n,  253. 
Dresel,  Otto,  i,  245;  n,  375. 
Dublin,  i,  88,  90. 
Dubois,  Prof.,  n,  261,  262. 
DuMaurier,  George,  n,  239. 
Dunbar,  P.  L.,  n,  261. 
Dunbar,  Mrs.  P.  L.,  n,  262. 
Duncan,  W.  A.,  n,  96. 
Dunkirk,  n,  121. 


Duse,  Eleanore,  n,  223. 

Dwight,  J.  S.,  i,  265;  n,  129,  150,  157. 

Dwight,  Mary,  n,  74. 

Eames,  Mr.,  i,  247. 

Eames,  Mrs.,  i,  238,  246. 

Eastburn,  Manton,  i,  70,  107. 

Eddy,  Sarah,  J.,  n,  126. 

Edgeworth,  Maria,  I,  89,  90. 

Edgeworthtown,  i,  88. 

Edward  VII,  ii,  9. 

Eels,  Mr.,  n,  262. 

Egypt,  ii,  34,  38. 

Eliot,  Charles  W.,  n,  355,  356. 

Eliot,  Samuel,  n,  92,  126,  194,  288. 

Eliot,  Mrs.  Samuel,  n,  194. 

Eliot,  S.  A.,  ii,  265,  275,  299. 

Elliott,  John,  n,  125,  131,  164,  165,  234, 
239,  240,  256,  287,  295,  298,  303,  312, 
408. 

Elliott,  Maud  Howe,  I,  112,  146,  166,  205, 
217,  219,  222,  228,  265,  317,  322,  329, 
332,  334,  339,  342,  343,  346,  348,  353, 
366;  ii,  4,  7,  9,  28,  31,  36,  44,  57,  61,  62, 
65,  67,  68-71,  73,  83,  90,  94,  98,  101, 
113-15,  119,  122,  125,  131,  132,  138, 
146,  158,  164,  169,  182,  207,  234,  236, 
238,  240,  241,  244,  247,  249,  251,  255, 
256,  281,  284,  285,  288,  290,  292,  294, 
295,  298,  302-04,  312-14,  318,  320, 
322,  324,  328,  340,  341,  363,  369,  370, 
381,  397,  399,  404,  405,  408,  410,  414. 
Letters  to,  n,  132,  138,  139,  155,  156, 
193,  195-200,  202,  217,  218,  220,  224, 
226,  227,  231. 

Elmira  Reformatory,  n,  107. 

Elssler,  Fanny,  i,  87. 

Elsteth,  i,  349;  n,  57. 

Embley,  I,  97. 

Emerson,  Miss,  n,  224. 

Emerson,  Edward,  n,  378. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  i,  70,  72,  87,  139,  140, 
177,  209,  290;  n,  10,  50,  56,  61,  76,  77, 
120,  137,  143,  250,  263,  304,  363.  Letter 
of,  i,  139. 

Emerson,  Mrs.  R.  W.,  ii,  61,  76,  87. 

England,  I,  85,  93,  312;  n,  9,  10,  21,  164, 
296. 

England,  Church  of,  n,  174. 

Ephesus,  II,  5. 

Europe,  I,  138;  n,  4,  12,  188.  See  also 
separate  countries. 

Evangelides,  Christy,  i,  42,  272. 

Evans,  Lawrence,  n,  324. 

Evening  Express,  Newport,  n,  54. 

Evening  Post,  N.  Y.,  n,  156. 

Everett,  Edward,  i,  87,  168,  210,  211;  n, 
317. 

Fairchild,  Sarah,  n,  157. 
Faneuil  Hall,  n,  88,  190. 
Fano,  I,  272. 


422 


INDEX 


Farinata,  i,  174. 

Farman,  Mr.,  n,  36. 

Farrar,  Canon,  n,  252. 

Fast  Day,  abolition  of,  n,  193. 

Faucit,  Helen,  i,  87. 

Fellows,  Sir  Charles,  i,  85. 

Feltham,  Owen,  i,  13,  40. 

Felton,  Cornelius,  I,  74,  120;  n,  44. 

Felton,  Mrs.  Cornelius,  I,  124;  n,  43,  228. 

Felu,  Charles,  I,  279,  280;  n,  12,  173. 

Female  Poets  of  America,  I,  17,  131. 

Fenn,  Mr.,  n,  181. 

Fenollosa,  n,  169. 

Fern,  Fanny,  n,  48. 

Ferney,  n,  22,  23. 

Ferrette,  Bishop,  I,  353. 

Fessenden,  W.  P.,  i,  239. 

Fichte,  J.  G.,  I,  196,  197,  250,  252,  253, 

255-59,  263,  286,  287,  298. 
Field,  Mrs.  D.  D.,  I,  134. 
Field,  John,  i,  227. 
Field,  Kate,  n,  48. 
Fields,  Annie,  u,  187,  228,  299,  317,  344, 

378. 
Fields,  J.  T.,  I,  137,  143,  262. 
Fisher,  Dr.,  i,  113,  114. 
Fiske,  John,  i,  312,  344. 
Fitch,  Mr.,  u,  376. 
Fitch,  Clyde,  n,  354. 
Fitz,  Mr.,  ii,  62. 

Five  of  Clubs,  i,  74,  110,  128;  n,  74. 
Flibbertigibbet,  n,  144,  145,  367. 
Florence,  i,  175. 
Florida,  n,  268. 
Flower,  Constance,  n,  168. 
Flynt,  Baker,  n,  230. 
Foley,  Margaret,  i,  227,  237. 
Forbes,  John,  n,  279. 
Forbes,  John  M.,  n,  109,  177. 
Foresti,  Felice,  i,  94,  104. 
Fort  Independence,  i,  346. 
Forum,  n,  182. 
Foster,  L.  S.,  i,  248. 
Foulke,  Dudley,  I,  365;  n,  188. 
Foundling  Hospital,  n,  8. 
Fowler,  O.  S.,  i,  98,  99. 
Fox,  Charles,  n,  265. 
France,  i,  131,  300,  308,  310;  EC,  9,  20,  26, 

34. 
Francis,  Eliza  C,  i,  18,  25,  26,  27,  31,  42, 

103,  150,  230;  n,  319. 
Francis,  J.  W.,  i,  18,  19,  26,  27,  36,  42,  57, 

114,  150;  ii,  251. 
Francis,  V.  M.,  n,  362. 
Franco- Prussian  War,  i,  300;  n,  13,  20. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  I,  6. 
Fredericksburg,  i,  192. 
Free  Religious  Club.  See  Radical  Club. 
Freeman,  Edward,  I,  95,  134. 
Freeman,  Mrs.  Edward,  I,  95,  134. 
Fremdenblatt,  n,  19. 
French  Revolution,  I,  12. 


Fries,  Wulf ,  i,  145. 

From  the  Oak  to  the  Olive,  I,  265,  269. 

Frothingham,  Octavius,  I,  304. 

Froude,  J.  A.,  n,  86. 

Fuller,  Margaret,  i,  69,  72,  87,  346;  n,  76, 

84,  85,  86,  142,  404,  405. 
Furness,  W.  H.,  I,  304. 

Gainsborough,  Lady,  n,  6. 

Gallup,  Charles,  n,  310. 

Galveston,  ii,  279. 

Gambetta,  Leon,  n,  25. 

Garcia  method,  i,  43. 

Gardiner,  ii,  122,  163,  194,  337. 

Gardiner,  J.  H.,  n,  267. 

Gardner,  Mrs.  Jack,  n,  70,  82,  150,  182, 

192. 
Garfield,  J.  A.,  n,  69. 
Garibaldi,  Giuseppe,  n,  242. 
Garrett,  Thomas,  i,  151. 
Garrison,  F.  J.,  n,  187,  218,  411. 
Garrison,  W.  L.,  I,  240,  345,  362;  n,  45, 

108,  187,  190. 
Gautier,  Sefior,  i,  325,  332. 
Gay,  Willard,  I,  298. 
GayarrS,  Judge,  n,  103. 
Geddes,  Pres.,  n,  357. 
General  Federation  of  Women's  Clubs,  I, 

294,  295,  384;  n,  182,  195,  207,  379. 
Geneva,  i,  278,  345;  n,  20,  22,  26. 
Gennadius,  John,  n,  6. 
George  I,  ii,  44. 
George  IV,  I,  262. 
George,  Henry,  n,  247. 
Georgetown,  i,  12. 
Germany,  i,  147,  197;  ii,  18,  19. 
Gethsemane,  n,  41. 
Gettysburg,  i,  189. 
Giachetti,  Baron,  n,  246. 
Giachetti,  Baroness,  n,  246. 
Gibbs,  Augusta,  i,  121. 
Gilbert,  W.  S.,  ii,  9. 
Gilder,  R.  W.,  n,  264,  354. 
Gillow,  Mgr.,  ii,  103. 
Gilmore,  P.  S.,  i,  223. 
Gilmour,  J.  R.,  i,  254,  255. 
Gladstone,  Commander,  n,  167. 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  n,  6,  7. 
Gladstone,  Mrs.  W.  E.,  n,  6. 
Glover,  Russell,  I,  54,  55. 
Goddard,  Mrs.  Wm.,  n,  393. 
Godiva,  i,  97;  n,  173. 
Godkin,  Mr.,  n,  202. 
Godwin,  Parke,  n,  198. 
Goethe,  J.  W.  von,  i,  67;  ii,  32. 
Goldsmith,  Mrs.  Julian,  n,  9. 
Gonfalonieri,  Count,  i,  94. 
Goodwin,  W.  W.,  n,  47,  48. 
Gordon,  G.  A.,  n,  203. 
Goschen,  Edward,  n,  8. 
Gosse,  Edmund,  ii,  167. 
Gosse,  Mrs.  Edmund,  n,  168. 


INDEX 


Graham,  Isabella,  i,  17. 

Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  H,   135, 

387. 
Grant,  Robert,  n,  320.  Verse  by,  335. 
Grant,  U.S.,  I,  213,  237,  246,  320;  n,  25, 

26. 
Grant,  Mrs.  U.  S.,  n,  26. 
Granville,  G.  G.  Leveson-Gower,  Earl, 

ii,9. 
Grasshopper,  I,  382. 
Graves,  Mary  H.,  I,  388-90;  n,  117,  118, 

184,  324,  386. 
Gray,  Thomas,  n,  167. 
Greece,  I,  72,  73,  246,  248,  262,  263,  267, 

272,  275,  278,  297,  308,  364;  n,  225. 
Greek  Revolution,  i,  72,  118,  261. 
Greeley,  Isabel,  n,  101. 
Green,  J.  R.,  n,  9. 
Green,  Mrs.  J.  R.,  n,  300. 
Green  Peace,  I,  111-13,  119, 121, 125, 128, 

129,  146,  147,  150,  151,  154,  163,  194, 

283,  339,  355,  356. 
Green  Peace,  new,  II,  364,  381. 
Greene,  Nancy,  i,  9,  78. 
Greene,  Nathanael,  i,  9. 
Greene,  Nathanael,  n,  220. 
Greene,  Phcebe,  I,  6,  65. 
Greene,  Gov.  Wm.,  i,  6,  9. 
Greene,  Wm.,  1, 170. 
Greene,  Wm.  B.,  i,  366. 
Greenhalge,  Frederick,  II,  191,  200. 
Gregory  XVI,  I,  95. 
Griggs,  E.  H.,  n,  297. 
Grisi,  Giulia,  I,  86,  87,  316;  n,  250,  350. 
Griswold,  Rufus,  i,  17,  131. 
Groton,  n,  62. 
Guild,  Mrs.  Charles,  II,  295. 
Guild,  Sam,  I,  124. 
Guizot,  F.  P.  G.,  i,  97,  272. 
Gulesian,  N.  H.,  n,  190,  216. 
Gurowski,  Count,  i,  246,  259. 
Gustine,  Mrs.,  I,  386,  387. 

Hague,  ii,  10,  11,  172. 

Hague  Conferences,  n,  381. 

Hahn,  Dr.,  i,  272. 

Hale,  E.  E.,  I,  294;  n,  62,  75,  81,  150,  194, 
268,  272,  273,  299,  364. 

Hale,  Sarah,  i,  128. 

Halifax,  i,  80. 

Hall,  Alice,  n,  294,  339,  362. 

Hall,  Anne,  i,  64. 

Hall,  Caroline.  See  Birckhead. 

Hall,  D.  P.,  i,  263,  297;  n,  294,  340,  362, 
363,  368. 

Hall,  Eleanor,  n,  385. 

Hall,  Florence  Howe,  I,  112-17,  119,  122, 
126,  128,  133,  147,  161,  163,  169,  170, 
196,  201,  202,  216,  222,  237,  238,  263, 
265,  277,  279,  297,  340,  341,  343,  349;  n, 
46,  57,  67,  68,  116,  119,  123,  124,  158, 
195,  196,  206,  207,  208,  221,  235,  294, 


302,  316,  339,  344,  375,  410.  Letters  to, 

ii,  92,  362. 
Hall,  Frances,  n,  339,  362. 
Hall,  H.  M.,  ii,  67,  294,  313,  324,  339. 
Hall,  J.  H,  ii,  67,  68,  98,  293. 
Hall,  Julia  W.  H.,  n,  313. 
Hall,  Prescott,  i,  41. 
Hall,  S.  P.,  i,  340,  341,  343;  n,  183. 
Hallowell,  Mrs.  Richard,  n,  266. 
Hals,  Franz,  ii,  10. 
Hampstead,  II,  170. 
Handel,  G.  F.,  n,  351,  386. 
Handel  and  Haydn  Society,  i,  237,  290. 
Hapgood,  Norman,  n,  354. 
Hare,  Augustus,  n,  5. 
Harland,  Henry,  n,  165,  171,  172. 
Harland,  Mrs.  Henry,  n,  167,  171,  172. 
Harrisburg,  I,  386. 
Hart,  Mayor,  n,  162. 
Harte,  Bret,  n,  47. 
Harrington,  S.  C.  Cavendish,  honorary 

Marquis,  n,  44. 
Harvard,  I,  237,  297;  n,  47,  48,  72,  183, 

338,  374. 
Harvard  Medical  School,  I,  72. 
Harvard  Musical  Concerts,  I,  249. 
Havana,  i,  126,  176. 
Haven,  Gilbert,  I,  365. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  I,  152;  ii,  325. 
Hawthorne,  Mrs.  Nathaniel,  I,  79,  152. 
Haydn,  Joseph,  n,  286. 
Hayti,  I,  331. 
Hazeltine,  Mrs.,  ii,  248. 
Healy,  G.  P.  A.,  n,  25. 
Healy,  Mrs.  G.  P.  A.,  n,  25,  26. 
Hedge,  Frederick,  I,  207,  236,  290,  346, 

347;  II,  139,  206,  236,  347. 
Hegel,  G.  W.  F.,  I,  196,  197,  240,  249. 
Heidelberg,  n,  174. 
Helbig,  Mme.,  n,  239,  249. 
Hemenway,  Mary,  n,  193. 
Henderson,  L.  J.,  n,  294,  298. 
Henschel,  Georg,  n,  71. 
Heredity,  influence  of,  I,  1,  14. 
Herford,  Brooke,  n,  127,  170. 
Herford,  Mrs.  Brooke,  n,  165,  170. 
Herkomer,  Hubert,  n,  165,  171. 
Herlihy,  Dan,  n,  322,  323. 
Herodotus,  n,  36,  37. 
Heron,  Matilda,  i,  143,  144. 
Heywood,  J.  C,  n,  244,  245. 
Heywood,  Mrs.  J.  C,  n,  244. 
Higginson,  T.  W.,  i,  227,  286,  362,  364, 

365;  ii,  48,  49,  60,  81,  88,  187,  259,  271- 

274,  302,  320,  335-37,  346,  354-56,  366, 

387,  400.  Verse  by,  335. 
Higher  education  of  women,  I,  361,  362; 

ii,  21. 
Hill,  Arthur  D.,  n,  406. 
Hill,  Thomas,  ii,  326. 
Hillard,  George,  I,  71,  74,  120,  128,  151. 
Hippolytus,  I,  203,  204,  205;  n,  345. 


424 


INDEX 


Hoar,  G.  F.,  n,  109,  210,  219,  292,  293, 
299. 

Hodges,  George,  u,  320. 

Hohenlohe,  Cardinal,  n,  241. 

Holland,  i,  10;  u,  10,  172. 

Holland,  J.  G.,  n,  47,  77. 

Holmes,  O.  W.,  i,  140-42,  207-11,  262, 
286,  294;  n,  66,  70,  80,  93,  146,  147, 
163,  272,  389.   Verse  by,  I,  140. 

Homans,  Mrs.  Charles,  n,  99,  354. 

Home  Rule,  n,  4,  166. 

Homer,  i,  323;  n,  5. 

Hooker,  Joseph,  i,  192. 

Hooper,  Ellen,  ii,  142. 

Hooper,  Samuel,  i,  239. 

Hopedale,  n,  253. 

Horace,  i,  153,  192;  n,  374,  282. 

Horry,  Peter,  I,  10,  11,  12. 

Horticulture,  I,  23,  24. 

Hosmer,  Harriet  G.,  I,  271. 

Hosmer,  Martha,  n,  325. 

Houghton,  R.  M.  Milnes,  Lord,  I,  82,  84, 
85;  ii,  5,  9. 

Howard,  Charles,  i,  267. 

Howard,  Lady  Mary,  i,  85. 

Howard  Athensum,  i,  204,  225. 

Howe,  Senator,  i,  239. 

Howe,  Fannie,  i,  298;  n,  80,  87,  201,  227, 
266,  351,  364.   Letter  to,  n,  338. 

Howe,  Florence.   See  Hall. 

Howe,  H.  M.,  i,  130,  131,  228,  237,  238, 
265,  297,  298;  n,  71,  80,  84,  87,  119, 
150,  201,  202,  227,  235,  266,  278,  283, 
338,  346,  350,  351,  413.  Letter  to,  n, 
397. 

Howe,  J.  N.,  Sr.,  I,  364. 

Howe,  J.  N.,  Jr.,  i,  258. 

Howe,  Julia  R.   See  Anagnos. 

Howe,  Julia  Ward,  ancestry,  I,  3-17; 
birth,  18;  childhood,  18-39;  early  verse, 
33-35;  girlhood,  41-60;  father's  death, 
61-64;  first  published  writing,  65; 
brother  Henry's  death,  66;  first  philo- 
sophical studies,  67-70;  engagement  and 
marriage,  72-78;  trip  to  Europe,  79- 
100;  birth  of  first  child,  96;  settles  at 
South  Boston,  102-07;  at  Green  Peace, 
111,  112;  birth  of  second  daughter,  112; 
brother  Marion's  death,  130;  birth  of 
first  son,  130,  of  third  daughter,  133; 
second  trip  to  Europe,  133-35;  publi- 
cation of  Passion  Flowers,  136-44,  of 
Words  for  the  Hour,  144,  and  of  The 
World's  Own,  144-45;  edits  paper  for  her 
children,  162-64;  trip  to  Cuba,  173- 
76;  publication  of  A  Trip  to  Cuba,  176; 
Tribune  letters,  176;  birth  and  death  of 
second  son,  178-84;  writing  of  Battle 
Hymn,  186-91;  visit  to  the  army,  192, 
193;  removal  to  Chestnut  St.,  194; 
philosophical  studies  and  essays,  195- 
202,  206,  208,  213-19,  222,  224,  225, 


227, 229-31, 236, 249,  250-53, 259;  writ- 
ing of  Hippolytus,  203-05;  edits  Boat- 
swain's Whistle,  210-12;  purchase  of 
Boylston  Place  house,  231-34;  publica- 
tion of  Later  Lyrics,  233,  237;  death  of 
Uncle  John,  242;  edits  Northern  Lights, 
254,  255,  263;  trip  to  Greece,  264-82; 
From  the  Oak  to  the  Olive,  265;  Radical 
Club,  284-86;  takes  up  study  of  Greek, 
287;  club  life,  291-96;  removal  to  Mt. 
Vernon  St.,  and  purchase  of  Oak  Glen, 
296;  marriage  of  three  daughters,  297; 
work  for  peace,  300-07,  309,  312,  318, 
319, 332,  345,  346;  n,  8,77,  326,327,  359; 
trip  to  London  and  Paris,  i,  312-17; 
two  visits  to  Santo  Domingo,  322-38; 
return  to  Green  Peace,  339;  forms  Sat- 
urday Morning  Club,  343;  illness  and 
death  of  husband,  354-57;  work  for 
suffrage,  358-73;  n,  61,  89,  99,  126,  151, 
192,  216,  268,  322,  343;  work  for  A.A.W. 
i,  373,  374,  383,  384;  n,  43,  91,  97,  152, 
256;  work  for  woman  ministry,  i,  384- 
92;  extended  European  tour;  ii,  2-34; 
Egypt,  34-38;  Palestine,  38-42;  Europe, 
43-45;  return  to  Oak  Glen,  46;  forms 
Town  and  Country  Club,  47-52;  and 
the  Pap6terie,  52,  53 ;  incurs  permanent 
lameness,  59;  returns  to  Boston,  60; 
publication  of  Modern  Society,  60;  set- 
tles at  241  Beacon  St.,  71;  writes  me- 
moir of  Maria  Mitchell,  83 ;  publication 
of  Margaret  Fuller,  84-86;  death  of 
brother  Samuel,  93-95;  manages  Wo- 
man's Department  at  New  Orleans 
Exposition,  99-112;  death  of  daughter 
Julia,  115-19;  visit  to  California,  131- 
38;  publication  of  song  album,  145, 
358;  second  visit  to  California,  154;  trip 
to  Europe,  164-77;  attends  Columbian 
Exposition,  178-82;  work  for  Russian 
Freedom,  187,  330,  and  for  Armenia, 
189-92,  209,  210,  216,  218,  324;  death 
of  sister  Annie,  202;  publication  of  Is 
Polite  Society  Polite?,  211-13;  writing  of 
Reminiscences,  219;  work  for  Greece, 
225-29;  death  of  sister  Louisa,  235; 
winter  in  Rome,  237-57;  publication  of 
From  Sunset  Ridge,  258,  and  of  Remi- 
niscences, 258,  259 ;  work  for  prevention 
of  lynching,  265,  266;  receives  degree 
from  Tufts,  324;  death  of  Michael 
Anagnos,  347,  of  D.  P.  Hall,  362,  and  of 
Marion  Crawford,  389;  receives  degree 
from  Brown,  392;  decline  of  health,  407- 
10;  receives  degree  from  Smith,  411, 
412;  illness  and  death,  413,  414. 

Lectures  and  readings,  I,  198-200,  209, 
218,  22S,  230,  239,  240,  251,  256,  264, 
284,  290,  291,  342,  344,  350,379,  385;  n, 
55-57,  61,62,66,82,87,  88,  91,99,  103, 
120,  121,  130,  132,  136,  198,  201,  215, 


INDEX 


425 


224,  229,  246,  247,  263,  274,  284,  288, 
316,  387,  396. 

Sermons,  I,  313,  314,  317,  329-33, 
336,  386,  391,  392;  n,  54,  55,  69,  78,  83, 
84,  127,  131,  136,  181,  361. 

Religious  views,  I,  21,  29,  34,  35,  66- 
70,  104,  107-09,  185,  207,  208,  252;  n, 
231,  282.  Home  life,  I,  110,  111,  146- 
55,  216,  217,  296,  298,  347-49;  n,  98, 
144.  Sense  of  relation  to  the  public,  I, 
98,  195,  299,  300,  358,  359.  Linguistic 
ability,  i,  32,  45,  59,  318.  Dramatic 
ability,  i,  29;  u,  32,  54,  68,  69,  78.  Fond- 
ness for  study,  I,  32,  45,  46,  67,  104,  125, 
134,  156,  287,  288.  Love  for  music,  i, 
43,  44,  222-24,  237;  n,  330;  composi- 
tions, i,  147,  148;  ii,  144, 145,  358.  Love 
of  fun,  i,  145;  n,  370.  Patriotism,  I, 
186-93,  219-22.  Fondness  for  society, 
i,  49-51. 

Grandchildren,  I,  339,  340,  343;  n,  67, 
68,  98,  128,  294,  339,  352.  Great-grand- 
children, ii,  313,  339,  408. 

Journal  extracts,  I,  178,  197-202,  205- 
09,  214-31,  233,  234,  236-42,  244-67, 
269,  271,  272,  276-81,  283-91,  306-18, 
328-38,  340-47,  349-56,  373,  374,  386- 
89;  ii,  5,  6,  8-12,  14-18,  20-26,  28-31, 
34-41,  43-45,  47,  54-58,  60-63,  65-71, 
73-79,  82,  83,  87,  88,  90-94,  96-99,  101, 
103-05,  108,  116-18,  120-46,  150-85, 
192-94,  197-207,  209-11,  214-20,  222- 
30,  233-36,  238-57,  259-63,  265-70, 
272-308,  311-17,  319,  320,  322-34,  336- 
68,  375-82,  385,  390,  395,  399-401,  403, 
406. 

Extracts  from  works  of,  I,  3,  8,  13,  15, 
19,  23,  24,  41,  46,  48,  49,  56,  59,  64-66, 
68,  79,  96,  99-103,  106,  130,  135-37, 
142,  144,  145,  162-64,  173-76,  179-87, 
189,  191-94,  202,  211,  213,  221,  235, 
260,  267-71,  273-76,  281-83,  285,  286, 
292,  295,  297,  299,  301-05,  313,  316, 
319,  320,  323-28,  330,  335,  339,  348, 
349,  357-60,  362,  364,  368-72,  374,  376, 
378-85,  389,  390;  n,  3,  4,  6,  18,  24,  25, 
28,  30-33,  41,  46-52,  80,  100,  106,  109- 
11,  143,  164,  186,  189-91,  211-14, 
237,  258,  271,  282,  308-10,  320,  336, 
340,  342,  346,  359,  369,  378,  382,  393, 
401,  403. 

Letters  of,  I,  31,  67,  71,  72,  79-82,  84- 
93,  107-33,  137,  142,  148,  149,  155-62, 
164-72,  184,  196,  303;  n,  58,  59,  63-70, 
73,  78,  81-96,  98,  111-14,  119,  122-25, 
132,  138,  155-58,  193,  195-200,  202, 
203,  206,  208-10,  217,  218,  220,  221, 
223,  224,  226,  227,  231,  232,  236,  267, 
277,  285,  298-300,  391-93,  396-98. 

Howe,  Laura  E.   See  Richards. 

Howe,  Maud.   See  Elliott. 

Howe,  S.  G.,  i,  72-83,  85,  86,  88-90, 92-95, 


97,  101-06,  110,  111,  113-16,  118,  119, 
121-24,  126-28,  130,  131,  133,  138,  139 
141,  146-55,  161,  165,  167-70,  173,  177 
178,  181,  184-86,  195,  203,  206,  208 
217,  220,  222,  227,  231,  243,  245,  246, 
248-251,  253,  255,  258,  261-65,  267, 
273,  275,  278-80,  283,  287,  288,  292, 
296-98,  306,  308,  315,  317,  321-25, 
334-40,  343,  345,  350,  353-58,  362,  364, 
372,  381;  ii,  3,  6,  23,  43-45,  63,  74,  77, 
118,  120,  127,  134,  141,  145,  146,  164, 
174,  175,  233,  252,  269,  292,  293,  296, 
300,  332,  363.  Letters  and  Journals  of, 
r,  106,  339. 

Howe,  S.  G.,  Jr.,  i,  178-85,  199,  200,  207, 
220,  234,  250,  290,  298,  352;  n,  120,  198, 
328. 

Howe  Memorial  Club,  n,  357. 

Howells,  W.  D.,  i,  244;  n,  66,  399. 

Howells,  Mrs.  W.  D.,  i,  244. 

Hudson  River,  i,  18. 

Hudson-Fulton  Centennial,  n,  395,  396, 
398. 

Hughes,  Mr.,  n,  168. 

Hughes,  Thomas,  n,  168. 

Hugo,  Victor,  n,  24,  63. 

Huguenots,  i,  10,  12. 

Hunt,  Helen,  n,  48. 

Hunt,  Louisa,  i,  230,  245;  n,  68. 

Hunt,  Richard,  I,  230. 

Hunt,  Wm,  I,  227,  237;  n,  99. 

Hurlburt,  Mrs.,  n,  247,  251. 

Hurlburt,  J.  W.,  n,  345. 

Hurlburt,  S.  A.,  n,  345. 

Hyacinthe,  PSre,  n,  87. 

Hyrne,  Dr.,  I,  12,  13. 

Hyrne,  Sarah.   See  Cutler. 

Ibsen,  Henrik,  n,  285. 

Idaho,  i,  372. 

Iddings,  Mrs.,  n,  250. 

II  Circolo  Italiano,  II,  285,  357. 

Index  Expurgatorius,  ii,  241. 

India,  English  rule  in,  n,  84. 

Indiana  Place  Church,  i,  259. 

Inglis,  R.  H.,  i,  81,  84,  86. 

Innsbruck,  I,  278. 

Institute  of  France,  II,  23. 

Intemperate  Women,  Home  for,  n,  78,  83, 

127. 
International  Council  of  Women,  n,  253, 

255. 
Iowa,  ii,  113. 

Ireland,  I,  88,  92;  n,  4,  71,  166,  319. 
Irving,  Henry,  n,  5,  87,  192. 
Irwin,  Agnes,  n,  34,  302. 
Ismail  Pasha,  n,  34,  36. 
Italy,  i,  94,  175;  ii,  29,  32,  44,  71,  93,  236, 

243,  256. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  I,  61. 
Jackson,  Edward,  ii,  241. 


426 


INDEX 


Jaffa,  ii,  41,  42. 

Jamaica,  L.I.,  I,  19. 

James,  Henry,  i,  255;  n,  8. 

James,  William,  n,  233,  315,  366. 

Jarvis,  Edward,  I,  133. 

Jeannette,  I,  322. 

Jefferson,  Joseph,  II,  97. 

Jeffries,  John,  n,  233. 

Jericho,  n,  38-40. 

Jerome,  J.  K.,  n,  171. 

Jerusalem,  i,  378;  n,  38,  40-42. 

Jeter,  Mrs.,  n,  349. 

Jewett,  M.  R.,  n,  316,  317,  356. 

Jewett,  Sarah  0.,  n,  299,  316,  317,  356. 

Jews,  I,  256,  311. 

Jocelyn,  Mr.,  n,  357. 

Johnson,  Andrew,  I,  238,  239,  246,  378. 

Johnson,  Reverdy,  I,  239. 

Johnson,  Robert  U.,  n,  399. 

Jones,  J.  L.,  n,  176,  178,  184. 

Jones,  Lief,  n,  166. 

Jordan  River,  n,  39. 

Jouett,  Admiral,  n,  104,  106. 

Kalopothakis,  Mr.,  n,  43. 

Kane,  Capt.,  n,  104. 

Kansas,  I,  168,  170,  381,  382;  II,  325. 

Kansas  City,  n,  122. 

Kant,  Immanuel,  I,  196,  214,  217,  218, 

222,  223,  225,  227,  229,  240,  241,  249, 

250,  253,  255;  n,  19,  62. 
Keller,  Helen,  h,  262. 
Kenmare,  Lady,  n,  251,  254. 
Kenmare,  Lord,  n,  165. 
Kennan,  George,  n,  187. 
Kennebec  River,  I,  5. 
Kensett,  J.  F.,  i,  159. 
Kentucky,  n,  122. 
Kenyon,  John,  i,  85. 
Kindergarten  for  the  Blind,  n,  119,  126, 

314,  360. 
King,  Mrs.,  n,  208. 
King,  Charles,  i,  16,  62;  n,  9. 
King,  Grace,  n,  108. 
King,  Rufus,  i,  169. 
King  Philip's  War,  I,  13. 
Kipling,  Rudyard,  n,  304. 
Kneisel,  Herr,  h,  367,  368. 
Knowles,  F.  L.,  h,  340. 
Knowles,  James,  n,  9. 
Kossuth,  Mme.,  I,  167. 
Kossuth,  Louis,  i,  151. 
Kreisler,  Franz,  n,  297. 

Lablache,  Luigi,  i,  86,  316. 
Ladenberg,  Emily,  n,  303. 
La  Farge,  John,  n,  50. 
Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  I,  93. 
Lambeth  Library,  n,  8. 
Lanciani,  Prof.,  u,  246. 
Landseer,  Edwin,  i,  87. 
Lane,  Prof.,  n,  47,  48. 


Langmaid,  Dr.,  n,  402. 

Langtry,  Lily,  n,  9. 

Lansdowne,  Marchioness  of,  I,  87. 

Lansdowne,     Henry    Petty-Fitzmaurice, 

Marquis  of,  I,  86,  87. 
La  Rochelle,  i,  10. 
Later  Lyrics,  i,  233,  237,  251,  283;  n,  60, 

194. 
Lawrence,  Bishop,  II,  261,  349. 
Lawrence,  Mrs.  Bigelow,  n,  313. 
Lawrence,  S.  E.,  I,  287. 
Lawton's  Valley,  I,  154,  194,  204,  225-27, 

235,  249-51,  254,  296. 
Layard,  Sir  Henry,  n,  44. 
Leavenworth,  I,  382. 
Lee,  Mrs.,  n,  200. 
Lee,  Harry,  n,  233. 

Lee,  R.  E.,  i,  213,  219,  274;  u,  353,  354. 
Lefranc,  Abel,  ii,  374. 
Leigh  Smith,  Miss,  n,  239,  243,  252,  254. 
Leland,  C.  G.,  i,  328;  ii,  50. 
Leo  XIII,  n,  241-43. 
Leoni,  Sig.,  n,  295,  296. 
Lesnian,  ii,  13,  14,  16,  17,  18. 
Lexington,  i,  256,  259;  n,  193,  194. 
Libby  Prison,  i,  188,  189. 
Lieber,  Francis,  I,  240. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  I,  189,  195,  211,  212, 

220,  221,  228,  274;  n,  108,  308,  387. 
Lincoln,  R.  T.,  n,  166,  168. 
Lippitt,  Gov.,  n,  221. 
Listener,  I,  162-64. 
Liszt,  Franz,  I,  270. 
Littlehale,  M.  F.,  n,  324. 
Livermore,  Mary  A.,  n,  18,  20,  125,  229. 
Liverpool,  I,  280;  n,  69,  164. 
Livy,  I,  202,  227,  228. 
Loch  Katrine,  i,  92. 
Locke,  W.  J.,  ii,  386. 
Lodge,  H.  C,  n,  304. 
Lodge,  Mrs.  H.  C,  ii,  304. 
Loisy,  Abbe\  n,  325. 
Lombroso,  Cesar,  n,  285. 
London,  I,  81,  265,  312;  n,  4,  45,  164,  166. 
Long,  J.  D.,  II,  196,  302,  354. 
Long  Island,  I,  19. 
Longfellow,  Fanny,  I,  71,  159,  160. 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  i.  59,  71,  74,  76,  77, 

138,  148,  159,  160,  262,  380;  u,  63,  74, 

125,  167,  196,  304,  356.   Letter  of,  I,  76. 
Longfellow,  Wadsworth,  n,  359. 
Longy,  M.,  n,  330. 
Lome.   See  Argyll,  ninth  duke  of. 
Loud,  J.  M.,  ii,  358,  368. 
Loudon,  John,  n,  244. 
Louis  XVI,  i,  7,  8. 
Louisville,  i,  169. 
Louvre,  i,  7. 
Love,  Alfred,  i,  304. 
Low,  Seth,  ii,  381. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  i,  156,  210,  262;  n,  63,  171, 
187.  Letter  of,  u,  149. 


INDEX 


427 


Loyson,  M.,  n,  249. 
Luquer,  Mr.,  n,  364. 
Lynch,  Dominick,  II,  364. 
Lyons,  i,  191. 

Mabilleau,  M.,  n,  314. 
McAllister,  Julia,  n,  34. 
McAllister,  Louisa,  i,  42,  158,  230. 
McAllister,  M.  H.,  I,  42. 
McAlvin,  Miss,  u,  194. 
McCabe,  C.  C,  i,  188,  189. 
McCarthy,  Frank,  n,  61,  62. 
McCarthy,  Justin,  n,  8. 
McCarthy,  Mrs.  Justin,  n,  5. 
McCready,  Tom,  n,  295. 
McCreary,  Mrs.,  n,  250. 
McDonald,  Alexander,  i,  167. 
McGregor,  Fanny,  i,  201. 
Machiavelli,  Niccolo,  I,  275. 
McKaye,  Baron,  i,  258,  267. 
McKinley,  William,  n,  265,  290. 
McLaren,  Eva,  n,  166. 
MacMahon,  M.  E.  P.  M.  de,  n,  26. 
Macready,  W.  C,  I,  87. 
McTavish,  Mrs.,  n,  249. 
Madrid,  I,  328;  n,  243,  353. 
Maggi,  Count  Alberto,  I,  255. 
Mailliard,  Adolphe,  i,  117,  135;  n,  222. 
Mailliard,  Annie,  i,  18,  21,  30,  34-36,  54, 
58,  60,  78-81,  83-85,  93,  117,  134,  135, 
137,  157,  200,  240,  241;  n,  67,  94,  131, 
135,  155,  202,  203,  216,  235.    Letters  to, 
107-09,  117,  118,  122-25,  127,  131-33, 
137,  142,  159-62,  164-72,  184. 
Maine,  I,  392;  ii,  122. 

Maine,  Sir  H.  J.  Sumner,  I,  249,  250. 

Malibran,  Mme.  de  (Maria  Felicita  Gar- 
cia), i,  29;  ii,  270,  350. 

Mallock,  W.  H.,  n,  8. 

Mammoth  Cave,  II,  122. 

Manatt,  E.,  n,  293. 

Mancini,  Sig.,  n,  172. 

Manhattan,  i,  243. 

Manila,  Battle  of,  n,  254. 

Mann,  Horace,  i,  73,  79,  83,  94,  121,  123, 
169,  185,  227. 

Mann,  Mary  P.,  i,  79,  80,  169. 

Manning,  H.  E.,  II,  165. 

Mansfield,  I,  378. 

Mansfield,  Richard,  H,  8,  313. 

Mansion  House,  n,  8. 

Mapleson,  Col.,  n,  103. 

Margherita,  Queen,  n,  30,  248,  277. 

Marie,  Peter,  ii,  54,  202. 

Marienburg,  n,  14. 

Mariette,  A.  E.,  n,  36. 

Mario  (Marchese  di  Candia),  I,  86,  87, 
316;  ii,  250,  350. 

Marion,  Benjamin,  I,  10-12. 

Marion,  Esther,  i,  10,  12. 

Marion,  Francis,  i,  10-14;  n,  351. 

Marion,  Gabriel,  I,  12. 


Marion,  Judith,  I,  11,  12. 

Marion,  Peter,  I,  12. 

Marne,  M.,  I,  328. 

Marsaba,  n,  38,  41. 

Marseilles,  I,  97. 

Marshalsea,  I,  83. 

Martin,  Mrs.,  n,  170. 

Martineau,  James,  n,  159,  161,  348. 

Marzials,  Mr.,  n,  167. 

Massachusetts,  i,  129,  168,  195,  249;  H, 

358. 
Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology, 
i,  297;  ii,  77,  80. 

Massachusetts  Legislature,  I,   168,  220, 
344,  366,  368;  ii,  405. 

Massachusetts  Press  Club,  n,  259. 

Massachusetts  State  Federation  of  Wo- 
men's Clubs,  i,  294;  n,  379. 

Massachusetts  Woman  Suffrage  Associa- 
tion, i,  369. 

Matsys,  Quentin,  n,  11. 

Maupassant,  Guy  de,  u,  164. 

May,  Abby  W„  i,  287,  368;  n,  141,  142. 

Mayor  des  Planches,  Count,  n,  302,  303. 

Mechanics'  Fair,  n,  162. 

Mechlenberg,  Herr  von,  II,  18. 

Medal  of  Honor  Legion,  n,  279. 

Mediterranean,  I,  381. 

Mendota,  i,  380. 

Mer  de  Glace,  n,  20. 

Merritt,  Anna  Lea,  n,  165. 

Mesday,  Herr,  n,  172. 

Messiah,  n,  8,  78. 

Metaphysical  Club,  n,  118. 

Mexican  Band,  n,  100,  103,  105. 

Mexican  War,  I,  129. 

Middletown,  R.I.,  i,  9. 

Milan,  i,  93;  n,  26. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  i,  304;  ii,  22. 

Miller,  Joaquin,  n,  103. 

Mills,  Arthur,  i,  99,  266;  n,  165. 

Milman,  H.  M.,  I,  267. 

Milnes.   See  Houghton. 

Milton,  John,  ii,  21,  137. 

Minneapolis,  I,  378,  379;  n,  87,  274. 

Minnehaha,  Falls  of,  I,  380. 

Minnesota,  I,  378,  380,  381,  392. 

Minturn,  Jonas,  I,  22. 

Mississippi,  I,  92. 

Mississippi  River,  i,  380;  n,  100. 

Mitchell,  Ellen,  i,  374.  Letters  to,  n,  391, 
392. 

Mitchell,  Maria,  I,  343,  373;  II,  82,  83. 

Mitchell,  S.  Weir,  n,  50. 

Mitchell,  Thomas,  I,  10,  12. 

Modern  Society,  n,  60. 

Molloy,  J.  F.,  ii,  171. 

Moltke,  Count  Hellmuth,  n,  20. 

Momery,  Dr.,  ii,  184. 

Money,  trade  in,  i,  16. 

Monroe,  Harriet,  n,  251. 

Monson,  i,  250. 


428 


INDEX 


Mont  Isabel,  I,  322. 

Montagu,  Basil,  i,  81,  85. 

Montagu,  Mrs.  Basil,  I,  85. 

Montgomery,  Richard,  I,  5. 

Montpelier,  n,  68. 

Montreal,  i,  38. 

Montreux,  u,  176. 

Moore,  Prof.,  u,  154. 

Moore,  Rebecca,  n,  170. 

Moore,  Thomas,  I,  87. 

Mormon  Tabernacle,  n,  137. 

Morpeth.   See  Carlisle,  Earl  of. 

Morris,  Gouverneur,  i,  7,  8. 

Morse,  E.  S.,  n,  169. 

Morse,  William,  n,  108. 

Mosby,  John,  n,  253. 

Mothers'  Peace  Day,  I,  318,  319,  345. 

Mott,  Lucretia,  i,  285,  304;  n,  108. 

Moulton,  Louise  C,  n,  161,  169,  171,  273. 

Verse  by,  335. 
Mounet-Sully,  Jean,  n,  195. 
Mt.  Auburn,  i,  1S3;  n,  290,  294. 
Mt.  Holyoke,  i,  251. 
Mozart,  W.  A.,  I,  45;  n,  351. 
Mozier,  Joseph,  i,  271. 
Mozumdar,  n,  87. 
Munich,  l,  278. 
Murray,  Gilbert,  n,  361. 
Murray,  Lady  Mary,  n,  361. 
Music,  power  of,  I,  44. 
Musical  Festivals,  Boston,  I,  222,  223,  225, 

227,  290. 
Mycenae,  n,  5,  43. 

Nantes,  revocation  of  Edict  of,  I,  10. 

Naples,  i,  53,  54,  97;  ii,  30. 

Napoleon  I,  I,  229,  230,  278;  n,  102,  284. 

Napoleon  II,  n,  26. 

Napoleon  III,  I,  300,  301,  310. 

National  American  Woman  Suffrage  As- 
sociation, i,  365. 

National  Gallery,  I,  314. 

National  Peace  Society,  I,  43. 

National  Sailors'  Home,  I,  210. 

National  Woman  Suffrage  Association,  I, 
365. 

Nativity,  Grotto  of  the,  n,  38. 

Nauplia,  i,  275-77. 

Nebraska,  n,  138. 

Nelson,  Horatio,  Lord,  II,  248. 

Nelson,  Jenny,  n,  194. 

New  Bedford,  n,  99. 

New  England,  I,  168,  173,  290,  324;  n,  80. 

New  England  Woman's  Club,  I,  190,  291, 
292,  294,  305,  310,  311,  341,  353,  365, 
369;  ii,  54,  73,  100,  118,  129,  141,  150, 
215,  259,  263,  286,  301,  311,  356,  401. 

New  England  Woman  Suffrage  Associa- 
tion, i,  363,  364. 

New  England  Women's  Press  Association, 
ii,  263. 

New  Gallery,  n,  171. 


New  Orleans,  n,  100,   108-11,   113,  178, 

207. 
New  Orleans  Exposition,  n,  87,  99,  100- 

12. 
New  York  City,  I,  16,  22,  26,  39,  61,  63, 

103,  240,  243;  n,  114,  115. 
New  York  University,  i,  17. 
New  Zealand,  n,  133. 
Newport,  I,  4,  24,  34,  38,  39,   52-54,  63, 

151,  159,  160,  162,  176,    199,  208,  209, 

226,  291,  296,  349;  ii,  46,  47,  49-51,  54- 

56,  78,  90,  128,  138,  140,  143,  145,  151, 

160,  162,  177,  198,  208. 
Newport  Historical  Society,  n,  78. 
Niagara,  I,  18,  19;  n,  19. 
Nicholas  II,  ii,  283. 
Nightingale,    Florence,    I,    97,    112,    113, 

294;  ii,  189,  239.    Letter  of,  I,  112. 
Nile,  i,  266;  n,  35,  36. 
Nineteenth  Century,  n,  248. 
Norman,  Mr.,  n,  90,  93. 
Norman,  Bradford,  n,  379. 
North  American  Review,  n,  121. 
North  Church,  n,  193. 
Northampton,  i,  251,  259. 
Northern  Lights,  I,  254,  255,  263. 
Norton,  Mrs.,  i,  82,  87. 
Norton,  Charles  Eliot,  ii,  198. 
Norton,  Richard,  n,  243. 
Novelli,  E.,  n,  357. 
Novelli,  Mme.,  ii,  357. 

Oak  Glen,  i,  296,  317,  339,  340,  347,  349; 

ii,  46,  67,  69,  72,  114,  120,  158,  374. 
Oakland,  n,  136. 
Oakley,  Mr.,  n,  154. 
Oberlin,  i,  361. 
O'Connell,  Cardinal,  n,  244. 
O'Connell,  Daniel,  I,  90,  91. 
O'Connell,  Dennis,  n,  247,  250. 
O'Connor,  F.  E.,  n,  5. 
O'Connor,  Mrs.  T.  P.,  Ii,  171. 
Old  South  Church,  I,  14;  n,  194. 
Olga,  Queen,  n,  43. 
Olives,  Mount  of,  ii,  38,  40,  41. 
Olympia,  n,  133,  134. 
Olympus,  i,  290. 
Osny  Effendi,  n,  37. 
O 'Sullivan,  John,  I,  329;  ii,  319. 
Otis,  Mrs.  H.  G.,  I,  123. 
Ouida  (Louise  de  la  Ram6e),  n,  121. 
Outlook,  ii,  355. 
Owatonna,  I,  378. 

Pacific,  ii,  75. 

Paddock,  Mary,  I,  197,  350. 

Paderewski,  Ignace,  ii,  171,  210,  240. 

Page,  Miss,  n,  216. 

Page,  T.  N.,  n,  399. 

Pajarita,  I,  323. 

Palestine,  ii,  42,  322. 

Paley's  Moral  Philosophy,  I,  32. 


INDEX 


429 


Palfrey,  J.  G.,  T,  207. 

Palmer,  Mr.,  n,  240. 

Palmer,  Alice  Freeman,  n,  187,  266. 

Palmer,  Courtland,  n,  240. 

Palmer,  Mrs.  Potter,  n,  178,  181. 

Panama  Canal,  n,  50. 

Pansotti,  Prof.,  ii,  251. 

PapSterie,  n,  52-54,  277,  385,  411,  413. 

Paris,  France,  I,  6,  8,  97,  116,  133,  278, 

279,  301,  308,  309,  315;  n,  23-26,  66, 

176. 
Park  Street  Church,  I,  43. 
Parker,  Theodore,  I,  33,  87,  106,  107,  143, 

151,  170,  172-76,  185,  186,  207,  285;  n, 

36,  108,  130,  154,  211,  247,  363,  411. 
Parker,  Mrs.  Theodore,  I,  173,  175. 
Parker  Fraternity,  I,  218,  385;  n,  127, 

130,  131. 
Parkman,  Dr.,  i,  132,  133. 
Parkman,  Francis,  I,  379;  n,  54. 
Parliament  of  Religions,  n,  178,  184. 
Parnell,  C.  S.,  n,  4,  5. 
Parnell,  Delia,  n,  4. 
Parnell,  Fanny,  n,  4. 
Parsons,  verse  by,  n,  115. 
Parthenon,  I,  274. 
Pascarello,  Sig.,  II.  255. 
Passion  Flowers,  I,  59,  106,  135,  137,  142, 

162,  251;  n.211. 
Pater,  Walter,  n,  168. 
Patti,  Adelina,  n,  5. 
Paul,  Jean,  i,  67. 
Peabody,  A.  P.,  I,  210. 
Peabody,  F.  G.,  n,  127. 
Peabody,  Lucia,  u,  260. 
Peabody,  Mary.   See  Mann. 
Peace,  i,  300-07,  309,  312,  318,  319,  332, 

345,  346;  u,  8,  77,  326,  327,  359. 
Pearse,  Mrs.,  n,  250. 
Peary,  R.  E.,  n,  396. 
Pecci.   See  Leo  XIII. 
Peekskill,  i,  6. 
Pekin,  n,  276,  278,  279. 
Pelosos,  Ernest,  I,  124. 
Pennsylvania  Peace  Society,  I,  319. 
Perabo,  Mr.,  i,  245,  259;  n,  136. 
Pericles,  i,  274. 
Perkins,  Charles,  n,  99. 
Perkins,  Mrs.  C.  C,  I,  347;  II,  65. 
Perkins,  G.  H.,  n,  292. 
Perkins  Institution  for  the  Blind,  I,  73,  74, 

102,  103,  105,  109,  111,  112,  128,  167, 

249,  273,  283,  354;  ii,  59,  73,  129,  150, 

269,  293,  347,  357. 
Perry,  Bliss,  n,  320. 
Perrysburg,  ii,  121,  122. 
Persiani  (Fanny  Tacchinardi),  I,  87. 
Perugia,  n,  243. 
Peter  the  Great,  n,  249. 
Petrarch,  Francesco,  I,  194. 
Philadelphia,  i,  63,   131,   169,  295,  304, 

318;  ii,  195,  196. 


Philippines,  n,  265. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  i,  261,  286,  362;  ii,  61, 

62,  84,  87,  88,  92,  108,  168,  190. 
Pickering,  John,  ir,  220. 
Pierce,  E.  L„  n,  187. 
Pierce,  J.  M.,  I,  251,  346. 
Pinturicchio,  II,  252. 
Piraeus,  n,  43,  44. 
Pitti  Palace,  I,  253. 
Pius  IX,  ii,  28,  29,  31,  241. 
Plato,  i,  40,  382;  n,  7,  338,  389. 
Plutarch,  I,  342. 
Poe,  E.  A.,  I,  26. 
Poggia-Suasa,  Princess,  n,  247. 
Point-aux-Trembles,  I,  5. 
Poland,  ii,  13. 
Polk,  James  K.,  i,  129. 
Pompeii,  I,  278. 
Pompey's  Pillar,  n,  34. 
Ponte,  Lorenzo  da,  I,  45. 
Pope,  Alexander,  i,  13. 
Porter,  F.  A.,  n,  82. 
Portland,  Maine,  I,  76. 
Portland,  Ore.,  n,  134. 
Portsmouth,  R.  I.,  i,  154. 
Portugal,  ii,  30. 

Potomac,  Army  of  the,  l,  192,  366. 
Potter,  Frank,  n,  381,  382. 
Potter,  H.  C,  n,  179. 
Poughkeepsie,  n,  202. 
Pourtales,  Count,  I,  124. 
Poussin,  Nicolas,  I,  42. 
Powel,  M.  E.,  ii,  277. 
Powell,  Aaron,  i,  303;  n,  178,  182. 
Powell,  Samuel,  n,  49. 
Powers,  Henry,  i,  354. 
Prado  Museum,  n,  243. 
Press  Association,  n,  181. 
Prime,  Ward  &  King,  i,  16,  55,  62;  ii,  9. 
Primrose  League,  ii,  170. 
Prison  Discipline  Society,  i,  127. 
Prison  reform,  I,  127,  315,  316. 
Procter,  Adelaide,  n,  5. 
Providence,  n,  100,  121,  126,  198. 
Provo,  Bishop  of,  n,  138. 
Prussia,  I,  94;  n,  12. 
Puerto  Plata,  I,  322,  331. 
Pym,  Bedford,  n,  107. 

Quaker  denomination,  I,  224,  365. 
Quebec,  I,  5,  38. 
Quincy,  Josiah,  i,  264;  ii,  364. 
Quincy,  Mrs.  Josiah,  i,  201. 
Quincy  Mansion  School,  n,  324. 

Rabe\  Annie  von,  n,  13,  14,  16. 

Rabe,  Eric  von,  n,  13,  14,  16. 

Rabe\  Oscar  von,  n,  17. 

Rachel,  Elisa,  i,  97,  254. 

Radical  Club,  i,  284-86,  290,  344;  n,  290, 

379. 
Rainieri,  Mr.,  n,  43. 


430 


INDEX 


Ray,  Catherine,  I,  6. 

Ray,  Simon,  I,  6. 

Read,  Buchanan,  i,  131. 

Red  Bank,  I,  6. 

Red  Cross,  n,  210. 

Red  Jacket,  i,  19. 

Redpath,  James,  I,  388. 

Redwood  Library,  II,  52. 

Rembrandt  (R.  H.  vonRijn),  i,  42;  n,  11, 
18. 

Reminiscences,  I,  41,  44,  92,  185,  195, 
210,  237,  247,  285,  291,  292,  301,  329; 
ii,  25,  29,  30,  32,  47,  118,  119,  218,  219, 
234,  238,  258,  259. 

Repplier,  Agnes,  n,  300. 

Representative  Women,  Congress  of,  n, 
178,  180. 

Republican,  Springfield,  n,  196. 

Resse,  Countess,  n,  256. 

Reszke,  Jean  de,  n,  269. 

Revere,  Paul,  n,  193. 

Rhine,  i,  133;  n,  173,  174. 

Rhode  Island,  I,  4,  6,  9;  n,  41,  162. 

Rice,  Lizzie,  i,  124. 

Richards,  Alice,  I,  339;  n,  164,  165,  167, 
175,  221. 

Richards,  G.  H.,  letter  to,  n,  398. 

Richards,  Henry,  i,  297,  339;  n,  65,  113, 
328,  397. 

Richards,  Julia  W.,  n,  67,  276,  285,  293, 
294,  298,  299,  333,  334,  341. 

Richards,  Laura  E.,  i,  133,  148,  161,  166, 
217,  222,  231,  265,  297,  339;  n,  46,  57- 
59,  69,  84,  112,  119,  124,  146,  164,  195, 
317,  318,  337,  340,  341,  358,  359-61, 
412.  Letters  to,  n,  58,  59,  63-68,  73,  81- 
83,85,88-91,  96,  98,  111-14,  122-25, 
157,  198,  221,  223,  231,  236,  267,  277, 
285,  298-300,  396. 

Richards,  Elizabeth,  n,  294,  341,  359. 

Richards,  Rosalind,  n,  179,  328,  354,  403. 

Richmond,  i,  29,  213,  219,  274. 

Ridley,  John,  i,  315. 

Ripley,  Lt.,  n,  155. 

Ristori,  Adelaide,  I,  254,  255;  n,  32,  250. 

Ritterschloss,  Marienburg,  n,  14. 

Riverton,  i,  319. 

Robert  College,  n,  42. 

Roberto,  Father,  n,  300,  337,  357. 

Robeson,  Mary,  n,  287. 

Robinson,  Mr.,  n,  229. 

Robinson,  Edwin  A.,  n,  268. 

Rochambeau,  Comte  de,  n,  381. 

Rochester,  I,  377. 

Rodocanachi,  Mr.,  i,  281;  n,  129. 

Rogers,  John,  i,  271. 

Rogers,  Samuel,  i,  81,  84,  87. 

Rogers,  W.  A.,  i,  199;  n,  49,  77. 

Rogers,  Mrs.  W.  A.,  n,  49,  77. 

Rohr,  Herr  von,  n,  17. 

Rolker,  Kitty,  I,  169. 

Roman  fever,  n,  31. 


Rome,  I,  94-96,  106,  115,  134,  135,  137, 
155,  207,  254,  267-71;  n,  27-29,  32,  55, 
82,  235,  237,  238. 

Roosevelt,  Theodore,  n,  191,  303-05,  325, 
328,  388. 

Rose,  Mme.,  n,  241. 

Rosebery,  A.  P.  Primrose,  Earl  of,  ii,  7. 

Rosmini,  Serbati,  n,  176. 

Ross,  Christian,  n,  243. 

Rossetti,  D.  G.,  ii,  239,  248. 

Rossini,  G.  A.,  n,  104. 

Rothschild,  Lady,  n,  168. 

Round  Hill  School,  I,  46. 

Rousseau,  Jacques,  u,  172. 

Royal  Geographic  Society,  n,  5,  7. 

Rubens,  P.  P.,  i,  279;  n,  11,  173. 

Rubenstein,  Anton,  i,  346. 

Russell,  C.  H.,  ii,  220. 

Russell,  George,  n,  141. 

Russell,  Sarah  S.,  n,  141. 

Russia,  i,  207;  n,  187,  218. 

Russian  Freedom,  Friends  of,  n,  187,  330. 

Rutherford,  Louis,  i,  49. 

Sabatier,  Paul,  n,  253. 

Sacken,  Baron  Osten,  i,  256. 

St.  Anthony,  Falls  of,  I,  379. 

St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  n,  275. 

St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  n,  8. 

St.  George,  Knights  of,  I,  74. 

St.  Jerome,  tomb  of,  n,  38. 

St.  Lawrence  River,  i,  5. 

St.  Louis,  I,  169,  170. 

St.  Paul,  i,  185,  224,  289,  366;  n,  157,  231, 

383. 
St.  Paul,  Minn.,  i,  379;  n,  274. 
St.  Paul's,  Antwerp,  n,  11. 
St.  Paul's  School,  i,  254. 
St.  Peter's,  i,  95,  269,  363;  n,  241,  245. 
St.  Petersburg,  n,  249. 
St.  Stanislas,  Order  of,  n,  283. 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  anecdote  of,  n,  248. 
Salem,  i,  37,  353;  n,  201. 
Salisbury,  Robert  Cecil,  Marquis  of,  II, 

303. 
Salt  Lake  City,  n,  137. 
Salvini,  Alessandro,  n,  82,  84. 
Salvini,  Tomaso,  i,  350,  351;  n,  67. 
Samana,  i,  334-38,  352,  354. 
Samana  Bay  Company,  I,  321,  322,  334, 

336,  337. 
Samoa,  n,  155. 

San  Francisco,  n,  132,  135,  137. 
San  Geronimo,  n,  135. 
San  Martino,  Duke  of,  n,  250. 
Sanborn,  Edward,  I,  383. 
Sanborn,  Mrs.  Edward,  I,  383. 
Sanborn,  F.  B.,  n,  77,  120,  128,  187,  196, 

287,  293,  332,  337,  354,  368. 
Sand,  George,  I,  67. 
Sanford,  Mrs.,  n,  253,  254. 
Sanitary  Commission,  1, 186, 190, 192, 195. 


INDEX 


431 


Santa  Barbara,  n,  136. 

Santerre,  A.  J.,  I,  8. 

Santo  Domingo,  i,  320-23,  325,  328,  329, 

331,  332,  334,  353,  386;  n,  56. 
Sarasate,  Pablo,  u,  167. 
Saratoga,  u,  78. 
Satolli,  n,  245. 
Saturday  Morning  Club,  I,  342-44,  353; 

li,  73,  157,  226,  227. 
Savage,  M.  J.,  n,  222. 
Savage,  W.  F.,  n,  273. 
Savoy,  House  of,  n,  277. 
Saye  and  Sele,  Lord,  i,  133. 
Scala,  Cane  Grande  della,  n,  26. 
Scala,  Cane  Signoria  della,  n,  26. 
Sehelling,  Ernest,  n,  367,  368,  373. 
Schelling,  F.  W.  J.  von,  I,  196. 
Schenectady,  I,  377;  n,  162. 
Schenskowkhan,  n,  17. 
Scherb,  Mr.,  i,  142. 
Schiller,  J.  C.  F.  von,  n,  20,  169. 
Schlesinger,  Mrs.  Barthold,  ii,  277. 
Schlesinger,  Sebastian,  n,  171. 
Schliemann,  Heinrich,  II,  5,  43. 
Schliemann,  Mrs.,  II,  5,  7,  44. 
Schubert,  Franz,  n,  20,  71,  157. 
Schurz,  Miss,  n,  65. 
Schwalbach,  n,  172,  173. 
Scotland,  i,  88,  91,  92;  n,  71,  166. 
Scott,  Virginia,  n,  249. 
Scott,  Walter,  I,  13,  91. 
Scott,  Winfield,  n,  249. 
Sears,  Mrs.  M.,  n,  210. 
Seattle,  n,  133. 

Seeley,  J.  R.,  I,  313,  314;  n,  6. 
Sembrich,  Marcella,  n,  269. 
Severance,  Caroline  M.,  i,  291;  n,  9. 
Seward,  W.  H.,  I,  192,  246. 
Sforza  Cesarini,  Duchess,  II,  175,  176. 
Shakespeare,  William,  n,  262,  330. 
Sharp,  William,  n,  169. 
Shedlock,  Miss,  n,  289. 
Shelby,  i,  377. 
Shelley,  P.  B.,  I,  68;  n,  237. 
Shenandoah,  I,  274. 
Shenstone,  William,  I,  13. 
Sherborn  Prison,  n,  159. 
Sheridan,  Philip,  I,  274. 
Sherman,  John,  I,  239. 
Sherman,  W.  T.,  I,  274;  n,  380. 
Sherwood,  Mrs.  John,  n,  73. 
Siberia,  n,  187. 
Sicily,  n,  408. 

Sienkiewicz,  Henryk,  n,  304. 
Silsbee,  Mrs.,  I,  264. 
Singleton,  Violet  Fane,  n,  5. 
Siouz,  i,  380. 
Sirani,  Elisabetta,  n,  27. 
Sistine  Chapel,  I,  269.    , 
Smalley,  Mrs.,  n,  168. 
Smiley,  Albert,  n,  326. 
Smith,  Amy,  I,  4. 


Smith,  Mrs.  E.,  I,  45,  46. 

Smith,  Sydney,  i,  82. 

Smith,  Mrs.  Sydney,  I,  85. 

Smith  College,  I,  361;  n,  411,  412. 

Smyrna,  n,  42. 

Snyders,  Franz,  I,  42,  147. 

Socrates,  I,  290,  354. 

Somerset,  Lady  Henry,  n,  170,  171,  201, 

210. 
Sonnenberg,  n,  175,  176. 
Sophocles,  ii,  130,  157. 
Sorosis  Club,  I,  373;  n,  215. 
Sorrento,  n,  389. 
Sothern,  E.  A.,  I,  143. 
South  Berwick,  n,  317. 
South  Boston,  i,  102,  123,  134,  154,  156, 

180;  ii,  116. 
South  Carolina,  I,  11,  168. 
Spain,  i,  4. 

Spanish-American  War,  n,  255. 
Speare,  William,  n,  45. 
Specie  Circular,  i,  61. 
Spencer,  Anna  G.,  n,  358. 
Speranza,  Prof.,  n,  285. 
Spielberg,  I,  94. 
Spinola,  Contessa,  n,  251. 
Spinoza,  Baruch,  I,  33,  192,  195,  200,  202, 

206,  253. 
Spofford,  Harriet  S.,  letter  to,  n,  391. 
Spokane,  n,  138. 
Stamp  Act,  i,  4. 
Standigl,  Herr,  I,  86. 
Stanley,  Mgr.,  n,  241. 
Stanley,  A.  P.,  I,  267;  n,  6. 
Stanley,  Lady,  I,  266,  267. 
Stedman,  E.  C,  I,  190. 
Steele,  Thomas,  i,  91. 
Stephenson,  Hannah,  I,  163;  II,  130. 
Stepniak,  Sergius,  ii,  170. 
Stevens,  Mr.,  i,  387. 
Stevenson.  R.  L.,  n,  200. 
Stillman,  W.  J.,  n,  239. 
Stillman,  Mrs.  W.  J„  n,  239,  251,  254. 
Stone,  C.  P.,  ii,  34,  37. 
Stone,  Lucy,  i,  362,  364,  375. 
Story,  Mrs.  Waldo,  ii,  249. 
Story,  William,  I,  124.   Letter  of,  II,  148. 
Stovin,  Mr.,  ii,  36. 
Stowe,  Harriet  B.,  I,  304;  ii,  329 
Stuart,  Miss,  n,  21. 
Stuart,  Gilbert,  I,  189. 
Sturgis,  William,  n,  142. 
Stuyvesant,  Peter,  i,  70. 
Stuyvesant  Institute,  I,  17. 
Success,  ii,  261. 
Sue,  Eugene,  I,  135. 
Suffrage,  equal,  I,  362-73;  II,  61,  88,  89, 

90,  126,  151,  166,   192,  216,  268,  322, 

343. 
Sullivan,  Annie  (Mrs.  Macy),  II,  262. 
Sullivan,  Sir  Arthur,  n,  9. 
Sullivan,  Richard,  n,  64. 


432 


INDEX 


Sully,  Due  de,  i,  192. 

Sumner,  Mrs.,  I,  225. 

Sumner,  Albert,  I,  151. 

Sumner,  Charles,  i,  71,  74-77,  116,  121, 
127,  133,  149,  151,  152,  153,  168,  200, 
205,  206,  226,  227,  246,  283,  344,  381; 
ii,  108,  128.   Letter  of,  i,  75. 

Sumner,  Mrs.  Charles,  I,  255,  283. 

Sumner,  George,  I,  151. 

Sutherland,  Duchess  of,  I,  82,  85,  95. 

Sutherland,  Duke  of,  I,  87. 

Swedenborg,  Emanuel,  I,  135. 

Swinburne,  A.  C,  n,  72. 

Switzerland,  I,  94,  278;  n,  20. 

Syra,  i,  272. 

Tacitus,  i,  177,  222. 

Tacoma,  n,  133,  153. 

Taft,  W.  H.,  n,  192,  388,  394. 

Taglioni,  Marie,  I,  97. 

Talbot,  Emily,  I,  287. 

Talleyrand,  Princess,  n,  247. 

Talmage,  DeWitt,  n,   101. 

Talmud,  n,  46. 

Tappan,  Caroline,  n,  142. 

Tasso,  Torquato,  n,  32. 

Taverna,  Contessa  di,  n,  253,  255. 

Taylor,  Father,  I,  72,  346. 

Tebbets,  Mrs.,  227. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord,  I,  160;  n,  203, 

227,  247. 
Terry,  Louisa,  I,  267,  268,  352;  n,  12-14, 

16,   28,   29,   32,   55,   60,  65,   67,    172- 

75,  235,  236,  238,  256.    Letter  to,  n, 

94. 
Terry,  Luther,  I,  95;  n,  28,  55,  67,  247, 

254. 
Terry,  Margaret,.   See  Chanler. 
Tewhk  Pasha,  n,  36. 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  n,  306. 
Thaxter,  Celia,  n,  199. 
Thayer,  Addle,  n,  312. 
Thayer,  W.  R.,  n,  346. 
Theseum,  I,  275. 
Thorndike,  Mrs.,  n,  247. 
Thucydides,  n,  47,  98. 
Thynne,  Lady  Beatrice,  n,  254. 
Thynne,  Lady  Katherine,  XI,  254. 
Ticknor,  Anna,  n,  345. 
Ticknor  &  Fields,  I,  137,  143. 
Tilden,  Mr.,  I,  345. 
Tilden,  Mrs.,  n,  157. 
Times,  London,  I,  372. 
Tiryns,  n,  5. 
Tiverton,  n,  47,  69. 
Todd,  Prof.,  n,  297. 
Todd,  Mabel  Loomis,  n,  270,  297,  315. 
Tonawanda,  n,  122. 
Torlonia,  Princess,  i,  95. 

Tormer, ,  I,  95. 

Tosti,  Sig.,  ii,  357. 
Touraine,  n,  353. 


Town  and  Country  Club,  I,  347;  n,  47, 

49-52,  55,  77. 
Toynbee,  Arnold,  n,  323. 
Toynbee  Hall,  n,  166. 
Transcendentalism,  I,  72. 
Trench,  Mr.,  n,  247. 
Trench,  Chevenix,  n,  247. 
Trenton,  n,  156. 
Trevelyan,  Lady,  I,  267. 
Tribune,  Chicago,  n,  8,  9,  18,  176. 
Tribune,  N.Y.,  I,  176,   196,  250,  251;  n, 

84. 
Trinity  Church,  Boston,  n,  141,  199. 
Trip  to  Cuba,  I,  173-77,  265. 
Trollope,  Frances  M.,  I,  114. 
Trowbridge,  J.  T.,  ii,  273. 
Troy,  i,  298,  308. 
Troyon,  Constant,  n,  172. 
Trumbull,  Senator,  i,  239. 
Trumbull,  John,  i,  5. 
Tschaikowsky,  Peter,  n,  295. 
Tuckerman,  G.  F.,  I,  248. 
Tuckerman,  H.  T.,  I,  231. 
Tuesday  Club,  n,  354. 
Tufts  College,  I,  218;  ii,  324. 
Tukey,  i,  250. 
Tumwater,  n,  134. 
Turin,  n,  24,  26. 
Turkey,  i,  261;  n,  394. 
Tuskegee,  ii,  200. 
Tweedy,  Mrs.,  I,  227,  231. 
Twelve  O'Clock  Talks,  n,  107,  178. 
Twisleton,  Edward,  I,  133,  314;  n,  6. 
Twitchell,  Joseph,  it,  187. 
Tybee,  I,  322,  334. 
Tyndall,  William,  I,  222,  228. 

Umberto  I,  n,  29-31,  248,  277. 

Unitarian  Association,  n,  4. 

Unitarian   Women,   Alliance   of,   II,    178, 

181. 
Unitarianism,  i,  109,  185,  259,  388. 
United  States  Army,  n,  15. 
Universal  Peace  Union,  I,  319. 
Upson,  Arthur,  n,  346. 
Utah,  ii,  17. 
Utica,  i,  344. 

Val,  Cardinal  Merry  del,  n,  254. 

Valley  Forge,  i,  6. 

Van  Buren,  Martin,  n,  306. 

Vandalia,  II,  155. 

Vanderbilt,  Cornelius,  n,  221. 

Van  Dyck,  Anthony,  n,  11. 

Van  Winkle,  Judge,  I,  382. 

Vassar,  Matthew,  n,  82. 

Vassar  College,  I,  361;  n,  11,  82,  83. 

Vatican,  n,  28,  252. 

Vaughan,  Dr.,  n,  170. 

Velasquez,  D.  R.  de  Silva,  I,  42. 

Vend6me,  II,  62. 

Venice,  i,  278;  n,  27. 


INDEX 


433 


Ventura,  u,  136. 

Ventura,  Sig.,  n,  82. 

Vergniaud,  P.  V.,  I,  7. 

Vermont,  i,  118;  n,  68. 

Verona,  i,  278;  n,  26,  27. 

Versailles,  I,  8,  309. 

Vibbert,  G.  H.,  I,  364. 

Victor  Emanuel  I,  n,  28-30. 

Victor  Emanuel  II,  n,  30,  278. 

Victoria,  Queen,  I,  267;  ii,  20,  127,  218, 

283. 
Victoria,  Empress  (Frederick),  n,  20. 
Victory,  Temple  of,  I,  274. 
Vienna,  I,  94;  n,  182. 
Villegas,  Jose,  n,  240,  243,  256. 
Vincent  Hospital,  n,  158. 
Vineyard  Haven,  i,  342,  387. 
Vinton,  Mr.,  n,  287. 
Virginia,  I,  29. 

Viti  de  Marco,  Marchesa  de,  n,  255. 
Viti  de  Marco,  Marcbese  de,  u,  255. 
Voickoff,  Alex,  I,  350. 
Voshell,  Lucy,  n,  344,  345,  347. 

Waddington,  Mary  K.,  II,  9. 

Waddington,  William,  n,  9. 

Wade,  Benjamin,  I,  321. 

Wadsworth,  William,  I,  86. 

Wagner,  Richard,  n,  156. 

Wales,  i,  88;  n,  166. 

Walker,  Francis,  n,  150,  172,  226. 

Wallace,  H.  B.,  i,  134,  271. 

Wallack's  Theatre,  I,  143,  352. 

Walmsley,  Mrs.,  II,  209. 

Ward,  name  of,  I,  4. 

Ward,  Capt.,  n,  8. 

Ward,  Anne,  I,  19,  22. 

Ward,  Annie.   See  Mailliard. 

Ward,  Emily  A.,  I,  50,  57,  60,  64. 

Ward,  F.  Marion,  i,  17,  22,  30,  46-48,  58, 

130,  352;  n,  108,  174,  175,  411. 
Ward,  Henry,  I,  22,  60. 
Ward,  Henry,  i,  31,  60;  n,  174,  175. 
Ward,  Henry,  I,  17,  46-48,  58,  65,  66,  74, 

341;  ii,  160,  277,  288,  411. 
Ward,  Herbert  D.,  II,  270. 
Ward,  Mrs.  Humphry,  n,  165,  378. 
Ward,  John,  I,  4. 
Ward,  John,  I,  22,  28,  64-66,  72,  107,  129, 

238,  242-45,  258,  351,  352;  n,  401. 
Ward,  Julia,  i,  17,  18. 
Ward,  Julia  Rush,  i,  17-22,  28,  61;  n,  160, 

235. 
Ward,  Louisa.  See  Crawford  and  Terry. 
Ward,  Mary.   See  Dorr. 
Ward,  Mary,  I,  238. 
Ward,  May  Alden,  n,  270,  388. 
Ward,  Phoebe,  i,  19. 
Ward,  Gov.  Richard,  I,  4. 
Ward,  Richard,  I,  242,  351. 
Ward,   Gov.   Samuel,   I,   4;   II,   78,    198, 

221. 


Ward,  Col.  Samuel,  I,  5-9,  15,  16,  19,  21, 

22,  37-39;  n,  304,  320. 
Ward,  Samuel,  i,  16-18,  21,  22,  25,  28,  29, 

33-42,  46-52,  58-64,  68,  243,  272,  289, 

351;  n,  9,  16,  78,  89,  108,  235,  251,  319, 

373. 
Ward,  Samuel,  I,  17,  30,  42,  46,  48,  51, 

56-58,  62,  64,  65,  72,  77,  78,  143,  147, 

153,  154,  219,  242;  n,  7,  55,  60,  66,  67, 

71,  72,   74,  78,   93-96,   125,   267,   287, 

304,  369,  375,  411,  413.    Letters  to,  69, 

70,  78,  81,  83,  84,  86. 
Ward,  Thomas,  I,  4. 
Ward,  W.  G.,  i,  238,  242. 
Ward,  Mrs.  W.  G.,  I,  238. 
Waring,  George,  n,  48. 
Warner,  C.  D.,  n,  107,  198. 
Warner,  H.  P.,  i,  265. 
Warren,  Mrs.  Fiske,  I,  288. 
Warren,  William,  n,  97. 
Warwick,  R.  I.,  i,  9,  16. 
Washington,  n,  134. 
Washington,  D.C.,  i,  186,  187,  189,  192, 

200,  206,  238,  240,  246,  258,  259,  366; 

ii,  131. 
Washington,  Booker,  n,  233,  261. 
Washington,  George,  I,  4-6,  12,  13,  111, 

189;  ii,  143,  389. 
Washington  Heights,  i.  111. 
Wasson,  Mr.,  i,  285,  290. 
Waters,  Mrs.,  n,  179. 
Watts,  Theodore,  n,  171. 
Webster,  Dr.,  i,  132. 
Webster,  Sydney,  n,  304. 
Weiss,  John,  i,  284-86. 
Wells,  Amos  R.,  n,  375. 
Wendell,  Barrett,  n,  359. 
Wendte,  C.  W.,  n,  78. 
Wesselhoeft,  William,   Sr.,   n,  230,  231, 

242,  264,  269,  275,  282. 
Wesselhoeft,  William,  Jr.,  n,  284,  333. 
Westminster  Abbey,  n,  6,  167,  171. 
Wheeler,  Joseph,  ii,  264. 
Wheeling,  I,  169. 
Wheelwright,  Mrs.,  n,  300. 
Whipple,  Charlotte,  ii,  267. 
Whipple,  E.  P.,  i,  210,  222,  262. 
Whistler,  J.  McN.,  n,  5,  72. 
White,  Mr.,  n,  323,  361. 
White,  A.  D.,  I,  321. 
White,  Daisy  R.,  n,  168. 
White,  Harry,  n,  168. 
Whitehouse,  Fitzhugh,  n,  326. 
Whitman,  Mrs.  Henry,  n,  313. 
Whitman,  Sarah,  n,  180,  228,  262,  325. 
Whitney,  Bishop,  n,  137. 
Whitney,  Mrs.,  n,  228. 
Whitney,  M.  W.,  n,  265. 
Whittier,  J.  G.,  i,  138,  152,  153,  210,  344; 

ii,  177,  187,  355,  367,  368.   Letter  of,  I, 

138. 
Wild,  Hamilton,  i,  201;  n,  99. 


434 


INDEX 


Wilde,  Lady,  n,  168. 

Wilde,  Oscar,  n,  70-72,  168. 

Wilde,  Mrs.  Oscar,  n,  167-69. 

Wilderness,  Battle  of  the,  n,  253. 

William  I,  I,  4. 

William  I  (Prussia),  I,  93,  94;  II,  20. 

William  II.,  n,  20. 

Williams,  Dr.,  II,  205. 

Williams,  Mrs.  Harry,  II,  93. 

Williams,  Roger,  I,  4. 

Williams  Hall,  i,  185. 

Willis,  N.  P.,  i,  262. 

Wilman,  Helen,  n,  325. 

Wilson,  Mrs.  B.  M.,  n,  266. 

Winchendon,  n,  314. 

Winchester,  i,  188. 

Windermere,  i,  92. 

Winslow,  Erving,  I,  346. 

Winslow,  Helen  M„  n,  270. 

Wintergreen  Club,  n,  361. 

Winthrop,  Lindall,  n,  251. 

Winthrop,  R.  C,  I,  170;  n,  93,  306. 

Winthrop  House,  I,  123,  124. 

Wister,  Owen,  n,  304,  354. 

Wolcott,  Roger,  n,  233. 

Woman  Ministry,  I,  386;  n,  77 

Woman's  Church,  i,  390. 

Woman's  Journal,  I,  353,  359;  II,  9,  100, 

324. 
Woman's  Liberal  Christian  Union,  i,  388. 
Woman's  Ministerial  Conference,  i,  390. 
Woman's  Mission,  i,  388;  n,  84. 


Women  Ministers,  Association  of,  n,  178. 
Women's    Educational    and     Industrial 

Union,  n,  179,  200. 
Women's  Hospital,  i,  233. 
Women's  Rest  Tour  Association,  n,  188, 

192. 
Wood,  Mr.,  ii,  5,  6. 
Wood,  Mrs.,  ii,  5,  6. 
Woolson,  Mrs.,  n,  229. 
Words  for  the  Hour,  1, 135, 143, 233;  n,  211. 
Wordsworth,  Mary,  I,  92,  93. 
Wordsworth,  William,  i,  85,  92;  n,  296. 
World,  London,  II,  45. 
World,  N.Y.,  ii,  311. 
World's  Own,  I,  143,  144,  352. 
Wright,  Silas,  i,  98. 
Wyman,  Lillie  B.  C,  n,  187. 

Xenophon,  I,  298;  n,  7,  374. 

Yates,  Edmund,  n,  5,  8,  45. 
Yeats,  W.  B.,  n,  319. 
Youmans,  E.  L.,  i,  245. 
Youth's  Companion,  n,  66. 

Zahm,  Father,  n,  247. 
Zakrzewska,  Dr.,  n,  302,  306. 

Zalinski, ,  n,  15,  16. 

Zalinski,  E.  L.  G.,  I,  346;  n,  15. 
Zangwill,  Israel,  n,  331. 
Zola,  Emile,  n,  241. 
Zufii  chiefs,  n,  74,  75. 


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